


Nowhere Boy

by Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Cruciatus, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Podfic Welcome, Slash, Torture, Tragedy, Tragic Romance, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum/pseuds/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum
Summary: Sirius Black never found much happiness at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. That isn’t to say that it wasn’t centre stage to some of the most important moments in his life.If nothing else, Sirius could always take solace in his music.***Winner 2nd Place- Best Completed Fic in the Shrieking Shack Society's Annual Marauders Medals Awards 2018***





	1. Blitzkrieg Bop

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my loyal beta [ Nymphadorable ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymphadorable/pseuds/Nymphadorable) for helping me with this story!

  

_July, 1976_

On the topmost landing of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Sirius Black lay sprawled on his bed with his eyes closed listening to his newly purchased vinyl. He and Moony had spent the morning perusing a Muggle record shop when he had happened across the latest addition to his already expansive collection of vinyls. Normally they would spend the remainder of the afternoon wandering the streets of London, smoking and messing around playing pranks, but on this occasion, Sirius had hurried back to his parent’s home to listen to his new record. Moony had opted to go home as he was not welcome in the Black household for obvious reasons.

He’d heard from reputable sources (James and Marlene) that the band he was listening to was the best new punk rock band to come from the States, so naturally, Sirius had to have it. He had had to wait until the summer holidays to buy the album, but it had been worth the wait.

Sirius lay there, letting the [ music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nYXTsbwsxA) of the Ramones wash over him and carry him far away…

 _"Hey ho, let's go! hey ho, let's go!_  
_Hey ho, let's go! hey ho, let's go!_  
_They're forming in straight line_  
_They're going through a tight wind_  
_The kids are losing their minds"_

“Could you please turn that down? I can hear it all the way down in the kitchen.”

Sirius opened his eyes and saw his brother standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, looking as serious as ever. Sirius turned onto his side and started rolling cigarettes. Ignoring the request he asked, “Do you like it? Just bought it today.”

“What is it?” asked Regulus stepping further into the room.

“The Ramones,” he replied, offering his brother a roll-up which he declined, then popped it into his own mouth. “They’re new, I quite like it so far.”

“It just sounds like a rabble to me,” muttered Regulus.

“Don’t be such a nob, Reg, it’s good music,” he chastised.

Regulus spluttered in indignation, “I’m not a—a what?”

“A nob, Reg, it means you’re a snob,” replied Sirius pointedly. “Get your head out of your arse and actually listen to the record. Let the magic of the music flow through you and carry you away.”

“What sort of magical properties does it have? I thought it was a Muggle record?” he asked.

Sirius rolled his eyes, “It’s not real magic mate—not like ours—it’s so much _deeper_ than that. Look, just listen to the lyrics and tell me how it makes you feel.”

The vinyl player crackled as it played the next track, the lead singer’s bleating voice shouting the [ lyrics](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3HUGeA2lur4) …

 _“Beat on the brat_  
_Beat on the brat_  
_Beat on the brat with a baseball bat”_

“What do you think?” Sirius implored.

Regulus shrugged, “Not much. He’s not a very good singer, is he?”

Sirius smirked at his brother, “Not a good singer, eh? Okay, give me a sec.”

He slid off of his bed and began to sort through the large collection of LPs sitting in a neat pile next to the vinyl player – the only thing in the room that wasn’t carelessly discarded. He pulled another LP from its sleeve and put it in the vinyl player, placing the thin needle on the record's surface with the delicate precision of a Healer. The record spun and crackled for a few moments before an accompaniment of piano, drums, bass and rhythm guitars exploded from the speakers.

Sirius turned to his brother and shouted over the music, “Just humour me – close your eyes and listen for a moment. Tell me what you think.”

Regulus sighed and complied with the request, the rock-pop music blaring in his ears. Suddenly a sublime voice began to [ sing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xEqSOst1dg8)…

 _“I, I wish I could swim_  
_Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim_  
_Though nothing, nothing will keep us together_  
_We can beat them, Forever and ever_  
_Oh, we can be heroes, just for one day…”_

The man’s dramatic, powdery, British-accented baritone swelled with the music. Regulus felt goosebumps explode across his arms and a pleasant shiver run up his spine. He opened his eyes and saw Sirius grinning widely at him.

“You like it?” he asked keenly and Regulus nodded. Sirius patted him approvingly on the back, “What did I tell you? Music man, it’s got its own magic – it can carry you away, transport you to new worlds. You can keep your Celestina Warbeck, I’ll take Bowie over her any day.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that he’s quite good for a Muggle. Where did you get it? Did James give it to you?” asked Regulus.

Sirius flopped back down on the bed and took another draw from his roll-up, “Muggle London. Moony and I were in this morning.”

Regulus groaned, “I wouldn’t mention that to Mother and Father if they ask where you were. Muggle London, Sirius? With Remus into the bargain, it’s like you’re deliberately trying to cause a row.”

“What’s the big deal?” he shrugged. “I’m already a Muggle-loving disappointment to them, where I shop and who with isn’t going to change their opinion of me.”

Regulus looked around his brother’s bedroom with disdain—Sirius had always liked all things Muggle-related; their music, their fashion, their inventions, their women. His bedroom was a homage to all things Muggle that he admired; every inch of the formal, Victorian wallpaper was hidden under pictures of motorcycles, fighter jets and bikini-clad women. Posters of his favourite bands and musicians - Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, Velvet Underground, Bob Dylan, Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin adorned his walls. Regulus eyed the people in the posters on the walls with unease, their eyes fixed and unmoving. He thought they were creepy. Merlin, even the tobacco he was smoking was from a Muggle shop. While Sirius’ rebellious streak could at times be endearing, more often than not Regulus found his brother’s behaviour worrisome. He smoothed down the dishevelled Gryffindor-clad quilt spread at the bottom of the bed before sitting down, looking at his big brother with a mixture of exacerbation and unease.

“I know you don’t care what they think, but I am trying to help you avoid another confrontation with them,” he implored, sounding agitated.

Sirius smiled warmly at his brother, “I appreciate you trying to look out for me Reg, but as the elder sibling it’s my job to worry for the both of us. Don’t stress about it kid, I can handle them.”

“Look, I know you don’t care, but Mother and Father have made it clear that this (he waved a hand at Sirius’ Muggle enshrined bedroom) bothers them,” he replied sternly. “They are our parents Sirius, we should accord them with the respect that they deserve.”

Sirius’ smile fell and he snorted, “I already accord them with the respect that they deserve – none.”

“You don’t mean that,” said Regulus looking aghast.

“I do,” replied Sirius flatly. “Look how they treat us, Reg, they dictate everything we say and do, and the minute we step out of line we get a healthy dose of Cruciatus. It’s like living in a fucking dictatorship around here.”

“That’s only because you’re constantly breaking the rules!” argued Regulus, his voice rising. “If you only followed the rules you wouldn’t get into trouble!”

“Parents don’t torture their kids just for breaking a few rules, Regulus, that isn’t normal!” snapped Sirius.

Regulus’ pale face flushed red with anger, “You’ve always been a troublemaker, even when we were little you were always getting into fights. I think you actually enjoy getting into trouble. Breaking the rules gets you more attention.”

Sirius gave a hollow laugh, “You’ve only cottoned on to that now? Why do you think James and I get on so well?”

“You say you don’t want to be anyone’s lapdog, but you’ll happily run after James Potter whenever you’re called upon,” he drawled.

“I do not!” protested Sirius rising to his feet.

“Do too!” argued Regulus. “I bet he was the one who told you to buy this album, wasn’t he?”

Sirius made a dismissive gesture but said nothing. Regulus looked smug, “So it’s only fine to do as your told so long as it’s James telling you what to do.”

“No, I just don’t listen to anything Mum and Dad have to say because they talk so much shit,” spat Sirius, his face turning the same shade of red as his brother’s.

“Just because you don’t agree with it doesn’t mean it’s shit, Sirius!” argued Regulus.

Sirius paced the room agitatedly, “How can you stand there and stick up for them? After everything they’ve done.”

Regulus didn’t answer. Instead, he tried changing the subject, “Please Sirius, I don’t want you to get hurt. Just turn the music down a little bit before they get back and hear it.”

Sirius’ anger dissipated as quickly as it had arisen at the despondent expression on his brother’s face. His shoulders sagged and he said softly, “Look, I don’t want to fight with you, Reg. You’re the only person in this house who doesn’t hate me.”

“I couldn’t hate you, Sirius,” admitted Regulus quietly. “You just…piss me off sometimes.”

Sirius laughed, “Swearing now, are we? You’re spending too much time in Snivellus’ company.”

“Don’t call him that,” he warned, his expression hardening.

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Sure, whatever. But you better not stop talking to me. Because if you stopped talking to me, who else is going to dance with me?”

“Dance?” scoffed Regulus. “To this?”

“Absolutely! Come on,” he grabbed Regulus’ hand and pulled him onto the bed. Regulus struggled to keep his balance while Sirius jumped up and down, “Come on Reg, dance!”

“This isn’t dancing!” he protested trying hard not to smile as his brother bounced about the bed from side to side, twisting and turning.

“Who cares? It’s fun! Or are you afraid to have fun?” teased Sirius.

He clicked his fingers and the music got louder. He began to jump-dance more erratically, causing Regulus to laugh hard at the ridiculous sight and begin to jump in tandem. The music, grand and heroic, swelled around them as they laughed, jumping and dancing, so loud that the fine hairs on the back of their arms vibrated to the bass of the music.

They didn’t hear the front door open, or the heavy footsteps that ascended the stairs to the topmost floor of the house. It was only when the music stopped abruptly that the brothers spun around towards the looming figure by the bedroom door. Orion Black stood with his wand gripped so tightly in one hand that his knuckles were white. His cold, grey eyes fell on his sons—Regulus, frozen in panic. Sirius, an expression of bored indifference, but his rapidly beating heart betrayed his fear.

“Father,” said Regulus meekly stepping down off of the bed, hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry Father, I—”

“Regulus, I expected better from you,” said Orion softly. “Sirius on the other hand, your animalistic behaviour comes as no surprise to anyone.”

“I wouldn’t want to let you down, Father,” said Sirius lightly, hopping off of the bed and stepping in front of Regulus to create a barrier between his brother and father – if anyone was going to be on the receiving end of their father’s wrath it would be him. There may have only been a couple of years between them, but in Sirius’ eyes, Regulus was still his baby brother.

“What’s the matter, Father? Don’t you like my music?” asked Sirius. “It’s a Muggle musician, by the way. Quite talented in my opinion. Better than Celestina by a long shot.”

Orion sneered at Sirius, “You really are shameless, aren’t you? A pathetic excuse for a wizard. If I hadn’t seen your mother bare you myself, I’d swear you were no son of mine.”

Sirius took this insult as a mark of pride and lifted his chin defiantly, “You say that like being your son is something to be proud of.”

 _Smack_.

The side of Sirius’ face exploded in pain as his father’s large hand slapped him hard.

“Father, don’t!” said Regulus stepping forward. Sirius tasted blood in his mouth. He gave a hollow laugh.

“A slap? Really? Such a Muggle thing to do. How unbecoming of you.”

This time it was a fist that connected with the side of his face and Sirius stumbled backwards, feeling dizzy from the sheer force of the punch. Despite the anger behind the strike, his father’s face remained impassive, they had played this game many times before. But Regulus stepped in front of Sirius now, looking up at his father like it was a battle between David and Goliath. His father’s magic hummed around him, making the air crackle like electricity. It smelled awful, putrid and dangerous.

“Please,” pleaded Regulus in a small, shaking voice. “Father. We’ll turn the music off, we won’t disturb you again, I promise. It was a mistake. Please, just—ARGH!”

Regulus’ words were cut off by his blood-curdling scream and he sank to his knees, clutching his face, eyes bulging out of his head. His father stood over him, wand pointed at Regulus with an expression of abject fury.

“Silence boy, I will deal with you later,” he snapped. Sirius strode forward then and punched his father in the face.

“No! You’ll deal with me! Leave him out of this,” he said roughly. He looked at his younger brother, his eyes a mixture of fear and resignation and reassurance.

“Get out of here,” he whispered to him, then he screamed collapsing to the floor, writhing in agony. Orion stood over his twisting form, wand in hand. Regulus stood frozen in fear, watching his brother jolt violently on the floor, his screams echoing throughout the entire house.

“GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!” screamed Sirius, and Regulus felt an invisible force pull him from the bedroom and throw him out into the corridor. He stumbled and fell, then quickly scrambled back to the bedroom, but the door slammed shut in his face.

“Sirius!” cried Regulus over his brother’s screams, banging at kicking at the door but it wouldn’t budge. “Sirius, let me in! Please!”

Even if Sirius had changed his mind and accepted his brother’s offer of help, he was too far gone now to take it – the exquisite pain of the Cruciatus Curse was all-consuming now. It was invading every nerve in his body, every blood vessel, it spread from inside his bones to the tips of his fingers, he was lost in it. The only tangible thought in his head was Bowie’s voice singing to him over and over again…

 _We’re nothing, and nothing will help us_  
_We’re nothing, and nothing will help us_  
_We’re nothing, and nothing will help us_  
_We’re nothing, and nothing will help us_

The words rang in his ears as unconsciousness mercifully swallowed him whole into beautiful nothingness, quicker and easier than falling asleep.


	2. I’m Not in Love

_June, 1975_

"You have atrocious taste in music, Moony," mused Sirius.

Remus gave him an incredulous look, "There's nothing wrong with my taste in music! It's still rock music, I thought you of all people would appreciate that."

"Soft rock isn't real rock," insisted Sirius sitting against his bedframe rolling cigarettes on his lap. "The Who is rock. Zeppelin is rock. Pink Floyd is rock. 10cc is hardly comparable."

"I'm not saying that they are," said Remus slipping his new LP into the vinyl player. "But soft rock is still rock in my books. Besides, you said I could play my record if I came back here, so tough if you don't like it, you're listening to my atrocious music regardless."

Sirius rolled his eyes. He had had some trouble coaxing Remus to come back to Grimmauld Place with him—they both knew that his parents would be furious if they found a werewolf of all things lurking about in their beloved hellhole of a home. But Sirius had reassured him that his parents were out for the whole day and had even promised to let him play his records if he agreed to come by.

Sirius gave a dramatic sigh, "Making my ears bleed merely for the pleasure of your company? Very well, then. Count your blessings I love you dearly."

"That joke only works with James," he grinned placing the needle on the record. After a few moments of crackling the music began to play. Remus stood on the spot bobbing his head awkwardly from side to side, tapping his foot along with the music. Sirius smiled fondly at his friend's uncoordinated dancing.

"You'll be putting Pan's People out of a job with dance moves like that," he teased.

Remus' grin widened and he shook his hips, "I've definitely got the legs for it."

"Not too bad in a pair of heels either, I bet," laughed Sirius.

Remus smiled and rubbed the side of his face thoughtfully, "Don't think the sideburns will go down too well, mind."

"I suppose you're right," sighed Sirius, running his hands through his shoulder-length, black hair. "But with your legs and my looks, we'd be unstoppable."

"Always so humble, Padfoot," laughed Remus, flopping down onto the bed next to him. He watched silently as Sirius rolled the cigarette paper between his middle fingers and thumbs and felt a flutter in his stomach when the tip of Sirius' pink tongue ran along the edge of the paper to seal it.

"So how come James and Peter haven't graced us with their presence today?" he asked, staring fixedly at his toes instead of Sirius' tongue and lips.

Sirius shrugged, "Wormtail's working and Prongs is out with Evans today."

Remus groaned and rubbed his face exasperatedly, "Again? Ever since they two hooked up we've hardly seen hide nor hair of him."

"Don't even get me started," grumbled Sirius. "If he's not in her company he never shuts up about her – 'Evans this and Evans that'. Yes, I'm sure that's all fascinating Prongs when you're the one that's shagging her. Like I give a shit."

Remus laughed, "Yes, he does seem rather besotted by this one. I'd convinced myself that it was the chase he enjoyed more than the girl—I thought once he'd won her affections he'd grow bored of her and dump her like the others."

"I thought the same," agreed Sirius. "But this one…it's been over a month now and he still seems quite keen on her. It's worrying me."

Remus frowned, "Worried? Why?"

"Because it means he's serious about her, Moony!" cried Sirius with a look of disgust, eyes still focused on rolling his cigarettes. "He's already ditching us to go on dates with her, what's it going to be like when we get back to school? First, he'll start ditching our little nightly excursions around the castle. Then he'll join study groups with her. And then," he baulked. "He'll start telling us we should study too!"

"Well, you probably should study more, Padfoot," suggested Remus lightly.

Sirius snorted, "I've managed well enough so far without it!"

"You've managed to coast on natural talent alone," said Remus. "Unfortunately for me I actually need to study to pass my exams."

Sirius grinned, "You study because you enjoy it! Don't lie."

Remus laughed, "Maybe a little bit."

Sirius nudged Remus on the shoulder, "You might be a secret bookworm, Moony, but you're still cool in my books. Cooler than James anyway—you wouldn't dump me for a girl, would you?"

"Course not," he assured him with a weak smile. He wouldn't dump Sirius for anybody, although he kept that last part to himself.

Sirius popped the last cigarette into his mouth and sat the tray on the bedside table to Remus' left-hand side. He had to crawl over Remus' lap to reach it and he felt Remus stiffen as he knelt over him.

"Y'alright there, Moony?" asked Sirius, sounding concerned.

"Fine," he replied lightly, still staring at his feet. "Just enjoying the music."

Sirius nodded, "Yeah, I suppose it's not as bad as I thought it was going to be. It's still not a patch on Bowie, but my ears aren't bleeding."

"If that's a thinly-veiled compliment I'll take it," he smirked. Sirius patted his pockets and scanned the room, frowning.

"What you lost?" asked Remus.

"My wand," he murmured, cigarette still between his lips. He climbed off the bed and rummaged through a large pile of dirty clothes. Remus raised his eyebrow in bemusement.

"I'm not surprised you've lost it. I don't know how you find anything in this mess."

Sirius glared at him, "You sound like my mother. This is organised chaos, Moony, I know where everything is and everything is in its place."

"So where's your wand?" he asked trying to suppress the smirk teasing the corners of his lips.

Sirius looked under a pile of discarded parchment and cried, "Aha!" He brandished his wand at Remus with a superior expression, "Exactly where I knew it would be."

"A likely story," he laughed. The next [ song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtBHfxU2wmc) began to play and Remus' smile broadened, "I love this song."

Sirius flopped back down on the bed and lit his cigarette with the tip of his wand, taking a long draw. Remus sidled down the bed until he and Sirius were lying side by side, passing the cigarette between each other while they listened to the music. Every so often their fingers would touch, perhaps for a second or two longer than necessary, but neither of them spoke for a while.

Sirius stole a glance at Remus and felt something warm in the pit of his stomach spread upwards towards his chest. Remus had his eyes closed and a small, serene smile on his lips. Sirius noticed a thin scar running down his bottom lip to his chin, the flesh shiny and pink against his pale face. Remus had many scars—an unfortunate side-effect of his monthly transformations—littering his whole body. But Sirius wondered how he'd never noticed this one before. He suddenly had the overwhelming desire to taste it.

Sirius shook his head clear of those thoughts, wondering where they had come from, then thought better than to prod too deeply into that. He took another draw and passed the cigarette to Remus.

"Back to the subject of women subjugating us," Remus began lightly and Sirius snorted. "What's the story with you and Alice? I thought you'd rather be hanging out with her if you've got the house to yourself today."

"Ah, there's no story to tell," he shrugged, lighting a fresh cigarette before turning on his side to face Remus. "She let me down gently by informing me that she's already going steady with Frank. Lucky bugger."

"Lucky indeed," sighed Remus, turning to mirror Sirius' position. "You know Wormtail told me he's been seeing someone, too?"

"You're kidding!" gaped Sirius.

Remus nodded with a small smile, "Marlene McKinnon."

Sirius choked back a laugh, "You're having me on!"

"I'm serious!" said Remus, his grin broadening. "He was in dire straits about what to wear and where to take her. He was asking me for advice."

Sirius pulled a face, "Why didn't he come to me?"

"I thought that'd be obvious," said Remus rolling his eyes.

Sirius looked annoyed, "Marlene and I only went out on a couple of dates to Hogsmeade! Hardly the romance of the century. I'd have given him plenty decent advice, told him all the right buttons to push."

Sirius smirked and winked at Remus. Remus felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with heat.

"What about you?" asked Sirius interestedly. "Pining after anyone?"

Remus gave a weak laugh and averted his gaze, "You know me, I'm the bookworm—too busy with my nose between the pages of a book to take much notice of anyone else."

Sirius scoffed, "You're a bookworm, yes, but you're not dead! You have hot, werewolf blood running through your veins! You're probably gagging for it more than I am."

"Don't joke about it," warned Remus, all trace of his smile gone.

Sirius looked apologetic, "Sorry. I was only teasing you."

"I know," he sighed. "But that's part of the problem, isn't it? Even if I wanted to get close to anyone, they wouldn't want to come anywhere near me. Not once they know about…"

"Your furry little problem," finished Sirius with a small smile. Remus nodded resignedly.

"There's no point pining after anyone because it's not likely ever to be reciprocated, is it? Not that I blame them. It's easier just to throw myself into schoolwork than think about it too much."

"You know, you've got a pretty low opinion of people, Remus," said Sirius grimly. "You're dismissing people before even giving them the chance to get to know you."

"It's easier to dismiss people before they hurt you than to constantly get your hopes up only to be let down over and over again," he snapped. Sirius glared at Remus, his mouth set in a thin line. Remus sighed and took another draw of the cigarette, "If you let yourself start to care about people, and that's when they up and leave you. It's not worth the trouble."

"You're talking out your arse," said Sirius.

Remus shook his head, "You don't know what it's like. You'll never understand."

"No, I won't," he admitted. "But you let your illness define you, Remus. It's only a small part of you, and you have so much to offer—you're smart, funny, you're a terrible dancer and have no taste in music."

Remus laughed and Sirius pressed on, "Prongs, Wormtail and I, we care about you - the person in here." Sirius placed his palm over Remus' heart and felt his heart beating faster against his hand like butterfly wings. Sirius swallowed hard then continued in a low, gravelly voice, "We've been through a lot together, Remus. I'm not going to up and leave you now, am I? After everything."

"It's different, though," said Remus quietly.

"How is it different?" he asked. The mood in the room seemed to shift from friendly banter to something more intense that Sirius couldn't put into words. Remus was avoiding Sirius' gaze now. Sirius moved his hand away from Remus' chest.

"How is it different?" he repeated in a firmer tone.

Remus paused before answering in a shrug, "Because you don't love me."

Something sparked in Sirius' brain at these words, stirring up feelings that he had been trying his damnest to ignore.

"I do love you," he replied quietly. Remus' eyes snapped up towards him.

"What?" he breathed.

Sirius shrugged, "Course I love you. I mean, we're best mates aren't we?"

Remus sighed, "I get it that we're friends, but it's not the same is it as being in love, is it? I'm not likely to know what  _that's_  like."

Sirius paused for a moment before reaching to take the cigarette out of Remus' mouth and allowed the tips of his fingers to graze over the scar on his lip. Remus sucked his breath in sharply and closed his eyes, trembling a little under his touch.

"Friends can love each other," said Sirius in a low voice. He wasn't entirely sure what he was proposing, but his heart was hammering hard in his chest at his own daring, "Do you love me?"

After a moment he slowly, deliberately, moved his hand away, brushing Remus' bottom lip with his thumb before popping the cigarette into his mouth taking a long draw. Remus' eyes were so dilated they looked more black than amber.

"Yeah, I do," he replied breathlessly.

Sirius nodded. He finished the cigarette and leaned over Remus to stub it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, careful not to touch him but aware of the incredible heat radiating off of his skin. When he leaned back he looked down and found Remus lying on his back looking up at him with a mixture of expectation and uncertainty. The music in the background was still playing, the singer crying in a sorrowful voice, " _I'm not in love…it's just a silly phase I'm going through…"_  but the music sounded very far away. All Sirius could hear was the beat of his own heart in his ears and Remus' slow, deep breaths as he lay there waiting.

All tangible thoughts seemed to have fled Sirius' mind, so he decided to operate solely on feeling. He knew what he wanted to do, and he thought that Remus wanted him to do it too. He leant forward to bring their lips together, softly, a quick press. Remus' lips tensed from sheer surprise and Sirius quickly withdrew, looking sheepish. A stolen second of bliss. Thinking he had miscalculated the moment, Sirius made to move away, but Remus quickly grabbed his wrist and he froze.

Sirius' eyes fell onto Remus' beautiful mouth, slightly parted, tense quick pants of breath passing his lips. Remus pulled Sirius a little closer and whispered, "Don't stop."

Sirius felt the hot coil in the pit of his stomach unravel as warmth and pleasure spread through him, not realising until then how much he had wanted to do this, for how long…he didn't know. He slid his hand behind the nape of Remus' neck and pulled him closer pressing their lips together again, more firmly than before. Remus' light brown eyelashes fluttered then slowly closed as Sirius deepened the kiss, carefully tracing his tongue over Remus' plump bottom lip and over the scar he had been so keen to taste. Remus shivered involuntarily before opening his mouth a little, an invitation to explore further.

Sirius felt light-headed at the taste of Remus' mouth. He had a deep rich, dark flavour of chocolate and coffee. It was intoxicating and he suddenly felt desperate to taste more of him, to breath him in, feel him against his skin. He shifted his body closer to Remus' and deepened the kiss, their tongues carefully exploring each other's mouths, each trace of lip and tongue being committed to memory, every gasp and moan noted.

Sirius sighed a little as he felt Remus' hands run through his hair and down his shoulders, coming to rest on the bottom of his back. Sirius was keen to explore more, sliding his hands up Remus' arms and back down across his slim chest. He'd never kissed another boy before. He thought it would feel strange, but with Remus their movements seemed in sync with one another. He fleetingly thought of what James would say if he saw them like this, but then Remus' hand slivered further down his back and gave his arse a light squeeze, and all thoughts of James quickly fled his mind.

They lay flush against one another, enjoying the press of one another's bodies as they continued to writhe and kiss and grope. Remus thrust his hips forward and they both gasped as their erections brushed against one another. Sirius grabbed Remus' slim waist more tightly and rubbed their hips together again and again, erratic at first but gradually building up a steady rhythm.

As the music continued to play Sirius felt like he was losing himself, fine-tuned to every little moan and gasp Remus made. Each ministration sent a shock of pleasure to his aching cock and he desperately wanted to hear Remus make those noises again and again.

Sirius climbed on top of Remus and pushed him into the mattress, kissing the column of his long neck, slipping his hand under his shirt, his warm fingers tracing the scars and muscles on Remus' abdomen. Remus suddenly sat upright, Sirius now straddling his hips, only breaking the contact of their kiss as he pulled his shirt over his head. Sirius did the same, tearing off his Pink Floyd t-shirt and tossing it onto the floor. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius' lithe waist and kissed him hard, running his hands up and down the expanse of smooth, pale skin, feeling goosebumps erupt across Sirius' flesh.

Sirius' panting became more laboured, his hips rocking backwards and forwards more forcefully now. Remus was fisting Sirius' long black hair, gasping and moaning as Sirius rolled his hips, brushing their erections together over and over again. He felt Remus suddenly tense and shudder, a long moan slipping from this throat and into his ear. Sirius held him in a tight embrace as Remus rode the crest of his orgasm, then felt his body relax and meld into his own, resting his chin on Sirius' shoulder.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I couldn't hold out any longer."

Sirius replied with a kiss, pushing Remus onto his back, palming his own erection through his jeans. A hesitant hand rested on Sirius' belt and he paused. Remus' amber eyes were darkened with lust, but he asked with a hint of trepidation in his voice, "Can I…would you like me to?"

Feeling light-headed with arousal, Sirius nodded eagerly. Remus flipped Sirius onto his back and pressed the length of his body against Sirius' side. Despite his nervousness, he made quick work unbuckling the belt and unzipping the jeans. Sirius lifted his hips off of the bed and pulled his jeans and boxers down his thighs, his erection resting on his flat stomach.

Sirius suddenly felt shy. Although he and Moony had seen each other naked numerous times—they had shared a dormitory for five years, it was inevitable—this was the first time that Remus would be really  _looking_  at him naked. Exposed. Aroused.

Remus stared fixedly at Sirius' cock for a moment before curling a hand tentatively around the shaft. Even this little contact was nearly too much for Sirius as his breathing became ragged, concentrating with difficulty on not coming at the slightest movement. He wanted to make this last as long as he could, although he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold out for long. Remus began slowly pumping Sirius' cock, watching intently as his hand slid up and down the shaft. Sirius couldn't help the whimper that escaped his lips and Remus' eyes snapped towards his own. Remus leaned forward, ghosting their lips together.

"Close?" he whispered.

Sirius nodded and gasped, "Very."

Remus' eyes seemed to glaze over and he groaned, "I want to watch you come, Sirius."

That was the tipping point for Sirius. His head fell back and his legs opened wide as the powerful orgasm washed over him, a long, deep moan ripping from his throat, " _Fuuuck yes."_

Remus kept pumping his cock, an almost feral look in his eyes as he loomed over him, rutting against his hip as he watched Sirius gasping for breath. When Sirius' orgasm subsided and his body became lax, Remus placed a chaste kiss on the corner of Sirius' mouth, then Sirius grabbed Remus' head and pulled him in closer, still breathless, panting and kissing each other hard on the mouth.

They lay there for a while, although neither of them spoke for a long time. Sirius had lit up another cigarette and they shared it, both deep in thought. Remus was the first to speak, asking the single question that had been playing in his head over and over again.

"So what do we do now?" he asked. Sirius said nothing for a moment, taking a particularly long drag from his cigarette staring up at the blank ceiling.

"Don't know," he replied blankly. Remus' feelings of elation quickly evaporated to be replaced with a horrible, twisting sensation in his stomach. He watched Sirius for a few moments, expecting him to say more, but Sirius avoided his gaze, instead continuing to stare fixedly at the ceiling. Fighting back tears, Remus got to his feet and pulled his t-shirt and trainers back on and made to leave.

"Remus," Sirius called quietly. His hand paused on the door handle but he didn't turn around.

"Yes?" he asked lightly, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. It was another long moment before Sirius spoke again.

"You want to go to the pictures with me tomorrow?" he asked with a nervous note in his voice.

Remus turned at looked at him hard for a moment, unsure of what Sirius was really asking.

"What are they showing?" he asked.

"'Night Moves' with Gene Hackman," replied Sirius. "And a new film about a shark called 'Jaws'."

"A film about a shark?" asked Remus screwing his face up.

Sirius shrugged, "It's meant to be quite good. Scary, mind you."

Remus thought for a moment before replying, "I do like Gene Hackman."

"I knew you'd say that," said Sirius with a small smile.

"Then why did you ask?" asked Remus.

"I asked if you wanted to go to the pictures with me, I don't much care what we see so long as you come with me," he admitted. Remus smiled and lowered his gaze, then nodded. It was a date, then.

"'Jaws', then," he said opening the door to leave. "See you tomorrow."

Sirius waved him off and the door closed with a soft  _click_. Sirius rubbed his face and sighed, unsure of what he'd gotten himself into. He wasn't very good at this, expressing lovey-dovey feelings and shit. Certainly not with Moony. But then Moony knew that much about him, anyway.

_Moony._

Christ. He'd always had a penchant for trouble, but this was taking the biscuit. They were friends. Friends that kissed and wanked each other off, apparently. Friends who were now going out on a date tomorrow to sit in a darkened room for a couple of hours and more than likely not watch any of the film. He felt conflicted about the whole thing—what they did, it had felt good…natural.

But he was already imagining the scenarios where this would all go wrong and he would lose his friend forever. If his parents found out—not that he cared much about their opinion, but the implications could be dangerous. And what would James say? That was another uncomfortable point that Sirius didn't care to think about too much.

Sirius shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Obviously, they were just having a wild moment. But a little experimentation never did anybody any harm. Yes, that's all this was – a little curiosity that once they'd both had their fill, they'd move on to bigger and better things.

Sirius flicked his wand at the record player and Remus' favourite song began to play again. He closed his eyes and touched his lips. A warm, pleasant feeling blossomed in his chest thinking about Remus kissing him. He lay there deep in thought allowing the sorrowful words to wash over him,

" _Ooh, you'll wait a long time for me_

_Ooh, you'll wait a long time…"_


	3. In the Flesh

_August, 1976_

Remus stood over the record player watching the vinyl spinning in circles as a woman's voice rang out [ singing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNWopQB8hAw),

" _I can't wait to touch you in the flesh_

_Darlin' darlin' darlin'_

_I can't wait to hear you_

_Remembering your love_

_Is nothing without you in the flesh"_

Sirius came up behind him and slithered his hands around his waist and held him close, slowly moving their hips from side to side in time with the music. Resting his chin on Remus' shoulder he whispered, "Come back to bed."

"In a minute," he muttered in response.

Sirius began to peel his boyfriend's boxers down past his slim hips, but Remus laid his hand on top of Sirius' to stop him.

"In a minute," he repeated more sternly. Sirius sighed and let his hands fall to his sides.

It had been a tumultuous year since Remus and Sirius' first kiss: they kept their relationship low-key, only confiding in James and Lily months later to which both voiced their support for them, although neither had seemed surprised by the news.

Life at Grimmauld Place had gradually deteriorated for Sirius: his relationship with his parents had become increasingly strained and he had even grown distant from his brother. Sirius blamed Snape for this estrangement, but Remus privately thought there was more to it than Snape's meddling; Regulus had become increasingly vocal about his views on pureblood supremacy, views which Sirius was quick to dismantle and chastise his brother for. The result being that they now barely spoke to one another, even at school.

Consequently, Sirius had begun spending an increasing amount of his time staying at James' house. Remus didn't want to admit that it made him a little jealous that Sirius chose to stay at the Potter's cottage instead of his home, but Sirius reasoned that the Potter's had a lot more room than Remus did, and Mr and Mrs Potter had been the first to offer their home to him. While the reasoning was sound, it still didn't abate Remus' suspicions that Sirius would rather spend more time in James' company than his own.

Things between the two had become increasingly unsettled after events at the end of term when Sirius had played a prank on Snape that had nearly ended his life. Remus hadn't spoken to Sirius in two weeks, ignoring his owls and floo calls. He'd only agreed to come over to Grimmauld Place on the condition that they talked things through, but they had ended up in bed before they had even said hello to one another. Now Remus was as annoyed at himself as much as he was with Sirius, who now stood behind him with his arms crossed and a bemused expression.

"You're still angry at me," he stated.

"I thought that much was obvious," replied Remus flatly.

Sirius glared, "Then why did you agree to come here if you were just going to mope about the whole time?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you about what happened," explained Remus, then added. "And you know I can't say no to you."

Sirius sighed and sat down on the bed the edge of the bed, "I've already apologised about what happened with Snivellus. I admit it was bang out of order on my part, but it's his own fault for being such a slimy, nosey git."

"I could have killed him, Sirius!" shouted Remus. "Or worse."

"Then you would have done the world a favour," drawled Sirius maliciously.

"This isn't a joke!" yelled Remus. "I could have really hurt him!"

"But you didn't, so what's the problem?" shrugged Sirius nonchalantly.

"The problem," growled Remus. "Is that you exposed my condition to Snape. No doubt he'll spend his summer telling everyone all about me. It'll be a miracle if I'm allowed to go back to school."

"Dumbledore won't kick you out," Sirius assured him. "He's got your back."

"Like you've got mine?" Remus jeered rounding on him.

Sirius frowned, "Of course I've got your back, we're best mates…more than, I mean."

"Well you've got a funny way of showing it!" shouted Remus. "You used my condition for entertainment Sirius, to play a practical joke. I am not a plaything that you get to manipulate for your personal amusement!"

"I know you're not," said Sirius weakly. "If I'm being completely honest, I'm sorrier that I've upset you than anything else I've ever done to Snape; he deserves what he gets. You…I wasn't thinking properly about how it would affect you."

"You could have made a murderer out of me," hissed Remus. "Detention wouldn't have cut it. I'd have been carted off to Azkaban or put down like the rabid dog they all think I am."

Sirius gave a weak laugh, "We both know that I'm more of a dog than you are Moony, in every sense of the word."

"You're not the one who's barely classified as human," raged Remus kicking over a pile of dirty clothes and scattering them all over the floor.

"What are you on about?" asked Sirius frowning. "Has something happened?"

Remus pulled a piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his jeans and tossed it onto the bed. Sirius unfolded it and read it in silence while Remus paced the room like a caged animal. Sirius' eyes flitted back and forth as he read the document, his eyes widening in shock then narrowing in anger. He tossed the parchment aside in disgust.

"Fuckers," he muttered. "When did you get the letter?"

"This morning," explained Remus, he was struggling to keep his voice even. "I'm already on the Werewolf Registry. Now with the introduction of this new Dark Creatures Registration Act, it's going to make my life even more difficult than it already is."

"This is bullshit," grumbled Sirius. "Putting you in the same category as trolls and dementors—they're not even human."

"Well plenty people are of the opinion that I'm not human either," Remus pointed out with a hollow laugh. "And after the shit that happened at the end of term, I'll be lucky they don't take my wand off of me and put a collar around my neck."

"It's just the Ministry's knee-jerk reaction to You-Know-Who winning the allegiance of the giants and vampires," mused Sirius. "Fucking morons—you'd think they'd be offering concessions to other dark creatures in order to get them on our side."

"Dark creatures," muttered Remus darkly. "Like me, you mean."

Sirius groaned, "It's different with you..."

"No it isn't!" hissed Remus. "Not according to the Ministry. Or most people for that matter."

"You're different," argued Sirius.

Remus scoffed, "Why, because we're sleeping together? I'm supposed to feel special because you wouldn't bang any other old werewolf? Nice to know I'm the exception to the rule."

"You can't let your illness define you, Moony," implored Sirius.

"I can't help but let it define me because it's all that people will allow me to be!" cried Remus. "I am a werewolf. I am 'dark creature'. I barely qualify as human in most people's eyes. No matter how many pep talks you give me telling me that it doesn't, my being a wizard will always be secondary to my illness. It will always define me Sirius, because it's who I am."

"So what? Are you going to go join a wolf pack and to hell with the rest of us?" asked Sirius hotly.

"Might as well, hadn't I?" raged Remus. "The Ministry's given me few other alternatives!"

Remus' eyes glinted dangerously and he muttered, "You know a horrible, dark part of me thinks how could it be any worse for me if You-Know-Who actually won this war? What else can the Ministry do to me that they haven't already? No wonder so many werewolves are on his side, at least he's promising them something worthwhile, even if it is a load of bollocks."

"You don't really mean that," chastised Sirius. Remus shrugged dejectedly and flopped down onto the bed next to Sirius, head in his hands. Sirius rested his hand on Remus' arm.

"Come on, Moony. Please don't join a wolf pack and leave me on my own," begged Sirius lightly, but only half-joking. "You know I'd be lost without you."

Remus rolled his eyes and sighed, "I'm not going to join a wolf pack. But I'm still scared about what's going to happen to me."

Sirius squeezed his arm reassuringly, "No matter what happens, I'll be right by your side. I love you, Moony. I won't let anything happen to you."

Remus snorted, "Sticking your dick in me doesn't mean that you love me, Sirius."

Sirius looked incredulous, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean don't make declarations of love when they're only half-hearted," he warned.

Sirius glared at Remus, "I've said I love you and suddenly my word isn't good enough. What do I have to do to convince you otherwise?"

"Let's see your Patronus then," he challenged.

"This again?" groaned Sirius, flopping back onto his bed. "You're just determined to pick a fight with me today, aren't you?"

"This is important," argued Remus fiercely.

"This is stupid," muttered Sirius dismissively.

"Why won't you show it to me?" asked Remus.

"There's nothing to see!" snarled Sirius.

"You won't show me because you know that it'll be a stag that comes out of your wand!" cried Remus. Sirius snarled in frustration and covered his face with his hands.

"How many times do I need to tell you, it's not what you think."

"Isn't it?" asked Remus, his voice strained. "Professor Talbot said—"

"That a Patronus represents that which is hidden, unknown but necessary within the personality," rhymed Sirius.

"Patronus forms can also change," added Remus. "If the caster falls in eternal, unchanging love."

"Morgana, help me," muttered Sirius. "Remus, the fact that James and I have the same Patronus is just a coincidence. It doesn't mean I'm in 'eternal, unchanging love' with him! Far bloody from it."

"I don't believe you," breathed Remus. Sirius sat upright again and stared hard at him.

"Think logically about this—isn't it more likely that James and I just happen to have the same Patronus? A stag isn't exactly uncommon. I mean, how many people know their eternal love at our age?"

Remus sat up straight, grabbed his wand and swished it above his head and the room erupted in bright white light. A white, shaggy dog erupted from the end of Remus' wand and rested its head on his lap before dissolving.

Sirius was silent. After a long moment, he slowly knelt down in front of Remus and took his hands in his own. Remus avoided his gaze.

"Look at me," he implored. Remus didn't move. Sirius gently tilted Remus' chin around to face him.

"Open your eyes and look at me," repeated Sirius. "Please, Remus."

Finally, Remus opened his eyes and looked at him. His expression was stony but his eyes were wide and wet with tears. Sirius stroked Remus' clenched knuckles with his thumb, trying to soothe him.

"I know what's in my own heart. So I want you to listen to me when I say this," he began carefully. "I'm with you and nobody else. I choose to be with you. You have me—mind, body and soul."

"Not all of you," argued Remus shaking his head sadly. "I can't give you all of myself and live happily knowing that half of your heart belongs to someone else."

"For fuck's sake, I'm not in love with James!" cried Sirius desperately. He shook his head and sighed, "Look. Of course, I love James, he's like a brother to me. But what we have, it's not the same. Not more or less…just different."

Sirius cupped Remus' cheeks and he unconsciously leaned into Sirius' touch. Sirius looked deep into his eyes, imploring, desperate, "You have all of my heart and then some, Remus. I know I don't say it very often, you know I've never been very good at talking about my feelings. But believe me when I say this—I am yours."

Sirius kissed Remus' cheek.

"I'll always be yours," he whispered, placing a feather light kiss on the corner of Remus' mouth. Remus sighed and rested his forehead against Sirius'. He didn't believe him, not entirely. But he was too weak to say no. He would never have all of Sirius' heart for himself, but better to have a little of it than none at all. He pressed a firm kiss on Sirius' lips, accepting what Sirius was willing to give him. Sirius gave a long sigh like he'd been holding his breath for a long time and kissed him back hungrily, running his hands through Remus' sandy hair and cradling the nape of his neck.

Sirius' movements were slow and intentional, hoping to convey with each kiss and lick and suck that he really was sorry—sorry for breaking his trust, sorry for how unfairly the world treated him, sorry for not loving him as deeply as Remus loved him. And he did love Remus, but he wasn't sure if he was even capable of loving anyone as deeply or as unconditionally as Remus did. But if he could, it would be Remus who would have his love, as much as he had to give. Although he wasn't sure that would be enough.

Sirius' hand slowly slid down Remus' neck to his chest, the course hair tickling his palm as he gently pushed him to lie back. Remus complied and automatically lifted his hips off of the bed to make it easier for Sirius to slide his boxers off. Sirius discarded them in the far corner of the room, licking his lips at a sight he'd never grow tired of.

Remus' cock, flushed red like his face, rested on his flat stomach desperate to be touched. He watched Remus' chest rise and fall for a moment and wondered how anyone could think this man was anything other than sheer perfection. The thought made his heart ache and with renewed determination sought to take away all of Remus' uncertainties and fears, at least for a little while.

Sirius ran his hands up the inside of Remus' thighs, enjoying feeling his muscles tense and shiver at his touch. He leaned forward and ghosted his breath over Remus' cock and Remus sucked his breath in hard as pre-come blossomed from the slit. Sirius licked the tip and a low, guttural moan escaped Remus' lips, so Sirius did it again and again. Slowly lapping his tongue over the head and silky smooth skin of his hot shaft until Remus' breath became laboured, bucking his hips up in tiny thrusting motions, silently begging for more.

Sirius happily obliged, taking Remus' full length into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the head and shaft. Cupping Remus' balls in one hand he began massaging them while he palmed his own aching erection with the other, loving the deep sighs of pleasure spilling from Remus' lips as he began rolling his hips up gently into Sirius' mouth, inviting him to take him deeper.

Remus' movements and breathing were becoming increasingly erratic, small whimpers and moaning breaths accompanied his hips, jerking and thrusting with increased frequency. Sirius' own movements were losing their rhythm as he took Remus' length in his hand and began pumping his cock hard to the same rhythm as his own. He imagined he was fucking Remus as he thrust his hips upwards into his own fist, moaning loudly as Remus' hips lifted off of the bed and tensed as he came. Sirius swallowed down his cum hungrily while Remus whimpered and babbled incoherently, caressing Sirius' hair lovingly through his fingertips.

All the tension in Remus' body subsided, his whole body pulsing with pleasure in the post-orgasmic afterglow. Sirius gave the tip of his softening cock a light kiss before climbing onto the bed to lie next to him, wiping his long, damp hair out of his face. Both of them lay on their backs staring up at the ceiling when Remus laced his fingers around Sirius' hand and held it tight.

"Do you forgive me yet?" chanced Sirius, his tone light and playful. Remus gave him a small smile.

"Getting there."

"Well then I'll just need to keep sucking your cock until you forgive me entirely," reasoned Sirius with a mischievous grin. Remus shrugged.

"Might take a few more blowjobs, but you're well on your road to redemption."

Sirius laughed and pulled Remus' hand up to give it a kiss, "Then I shall shoulder the burden for as long as it takes."

"I had my suspicions. But I refused to believe it until I saw it with my own eyes," said a familiar voice. Sirius felt his insides freeze with fear. He sat bolt upright and turned to see his father standing in the doorway, his expression disturbingly blank.

"Father," breathed Sirius. Remus had already jumped to his feet and was pulling his clothes back on as quickly as possible. "You're not supposed to be here."

"No, I was supposed to have business in the city today," he said conversationally, stepping further into the room. "But I instructed Kreacher to inform me if any unexpected guests were to arrive in my absence."

Orion's eyes fell on Remus and flashed dangerously. Remus stood with his head bowed, unsure of what to do. Sirius was already on his feet standing between the two, his heartbeat thumping painfully in his throat.

"Father, you can deal with me later," he implored. "Just let Remus go first and—"

Sirius froze as his father pulled out his wand and pointed it at both himself and Remus.

"Silence, blood traitor," hissed Orion striding forward. "Filthy, disgusting, perditious beast!"

Orion struck Sirius on the face with such force that he fell sideways, dizzy with pain. Before he even hit the ground there was a flurry of movement as a bright green flash filled the room and something rushed past him in a blur, then he heard a yelp and a loud crash. Sirius shook his head clear and scrambled to his feet and saw Remus with his father pinned against the bedroom wall, his feet dangling a foot off of the ground. Remus' build may have been slight, but he was deceptively strong.

Orion gasped and choked, fighting to loosen Remus' tightening grip around his throat but to no avail as Remus dug his sharp nails into the jugular.

"Remus!" cried Sirius rushing forward. Remus didn't tear his amber eyes away from Orion's, now bulging out of his head with fury and fear.

"He shouldn't have hit you," he snarled bearing his unusually sharp teeth, his voice sounding more animal than human.

"I know, but it's alright Remus," said Sirius carefully. "Just put him down and we'll get out of here."

"You're not going anywhere with that beast," croaked Orion. Remus snarled and tightened his grip around the man's throat, squeezing the breath out of him.

Remus' growling stopped abruptly as someone commanded, "Let go of him, wolf."

Sirius turned and his heart sank. In the commotion, he hadn't noticed Regulus enter the room, armed with a silver dagger pointed at Remus' neck. Remus eyed it carefully, the first glint of fear in his eyes, but he didn't move. Regulus glared at Remus with an expression of fury and disgust.

"Let go of him," he repeated in a low voice.

"Reg, no!" pleaded Sirius taking another step forward. Regulus' eyes darted towards his brother.

"You want your boyfriend to keep his head on his shoulders?" he asked. "Then tell him to let father go and leave. Now."

Remus glanced at Sirius inquiringly, and after a moment Sirius gave a curt nod. Remus slowly loosened the grip on Orion's neck and let him slide to the floor in a heap. Regulus didn't lower the blade.

"Now go," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. Remus glanced at Sirius, looking almost apologetic as he turned and left the room. Nobody moved or spoke until they heard the front door slam shut.

"This," muttered Orion hoarsely struggling to his feet. "I knew you were corrupt from the moment your mother bore you; your queer behaviour, your delinquency, your love of Mudbloods. But this...bringing that creature into the home of our ancestors, and to bed him into the bargain. I ought to kill you where you stand."

Orion spat the last words with such venom that Sirius flinched as though they had struck him again. Orion reached for his wand but Regulus grabbed his father's arm.

"Father don't," he pleaded firmly. "Think of what Mother would say. He may be a shame to the name of Black, but he is still her son. She would never forgive you if you took his life—even after everything he's done."

Orion stood frozen for a few moments, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he mulled over his favoured son's words. Sirius held his breath, waiting for his fate. Slowly Orion nodded and turned to Sirius.

"For your mother's sake alone I shall not strike you down today," he growled. "But you are to leave this house today and never return."

Sirius blinked, "What?"

"Get out of my house," repeated Orion, more forcefully now. "I wash my hands of you. You are no longer welcome here."

Sirius felt stunned, not entirely processing the words coming out of his father's mouth. But after a moment he shrugged.

"Fine," he muttered. "Give me five minutes to gather my things and I'll be out of here."

"You have two minutes and you are never to darken our doorstep again. You are no son of mine," he declared.

He turned to leave when Sirius spoke in a low voice, "You're wrong."

Orion paused and turned to face him, his face contorted in fury, "What did you say to me?"

"I said you're wrong," repeated Sirius, his voice stronger now. He stood to his full height, taller than his father now with a look of utmost defiance written all over his face. "I am everything you say and then some, but I am and always will be your son—your flesh and blood—"

"SHAME OF MY FLESH AND BLOOD!" bellowed Orion, his face inches from Sirius', but Sirius looked resolute.

"I am your son," he repeated, his voice shaking with sheer conviction. "Shame of your flesh and blood, but I will always be your son and there's NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT!"

Orion raised his fist to strike him again then faltered. Regulus stood watching in the corner of the room, unmoved. Sirius waited with bated breath for the blow that would never come. Orion's shoulders sagged and he left without another word while Regulus remained rooted to the spot, staring fixedly at his big brother.

"Thank you Reg—" began Sirius, but Regulus cut him off.

"Don't," he spat. He shook his head in disgust, still grasping the silver dagger in his fist. "You did this on purpose."

"Of course I didn't!" protested Sirius. "I thought he and Mother were gone all weekend."

"You're lying, Sirius!" shouted Regulus. "You could have gone somewhere else but you chose to bring him here because you  _wanted_  to get caught! You're always causing trouble, always trying to hurt us. Now you bring that filthy half-breed in here and you desecrate our home."

"Don't call him that," warned Sirius.

"I'll call him what he is!" roared Regulus brandishing the knife at him. "And you! You're just a filthy blood traitor."

"Reg," pleaded Sirius weakly, raising his hand to him, but Regulus took a step back shaking his head.

"I've saved your life today, Sirius, and it's the last favour I'll ever do for you," he said in a shaking voice, his eyes glistening with tears. "Just get your things and leave us alone."

He turned on his heel and left the room, slamming his own bedroom door shut behind him.

The music was still playing in the background, its upbeat tempo jarring against the dark mood in the room. Sirius scanned his room for his valuables, wondering what he needed to take with him. After a moment he simply pocketed his wand and slammed the door shut behind him, resolute in the knowledge that he would never return to Grimmauld Place again.


	4. Bright Morning Stars Are Rising

_January 1969_

Sirius and Regulus stood in the kitchen with their heads bowed and knees trembling. Their mother walked slowly back and forth in front of them, trying to decide how best to punish her sons. The only sound was the boy's ragged breaths and her heels clicking and echoing off of the stone floor. Walburga Black tapped her wand thoughtfully against her thigh, deep in contemplation. When she eventually spoke, her soft voice was barely above a whisper, "Did you really think you could hide it from me, Regulus?"

Sirius stole a glance at his mother. She always looked the height of propriety in her high-necked Victorian dresses, her kohl-black hair pinned neatly on top of her head. She was undeniably beautiful with her alabaster skin and high cheekbones - strong features which each of her son's had inherited. But Walburga Black's beauty was only eclipsed by her cruelty. Her cold grey eyes darted towards Sirius and his gaze quickly fell back to the floor. Regulus' breathing quickened but he remained silent.

"I want to know," she said carefully. "Where you got it."

She placed the offending item carefully onto the kitchen table so that it was eye-level with the brother's - it was a toy car. Sirius recognised the make and model immediately because he wanted one so much - a red mustang convertible with two white stripes up the bonnet.

"Well?" she asked again expectantly, almost sweetly. "Where did you get it?"

Still, Regulus said nothing. Sirius knew fine well where that car had come from; he'd stolen it from a Muggle corner shop before Christmas and been careful to keep it hidden beneath the floorboards under his bed, only taking it out to look over late at night before stashing it away again and dreaming of having a real one for himself. Regulus must have found it while Sirius had been out playing. Now thanks to his younger brother's carelessness, they were both in a world of trouble.

"I-" choked Regulus. "I found it outside."

 _"Lies,"_ she hissed, her grip tightening on her wand. "You've been playing with the local mudbloods, haven't you?"

"No!" he cried, looking desperately up into his mother's eyes. "No, I wouldn't do that."

"If you didn't find it, and you didn't get it from a mudblood, then you must have stolen it," she reasoned. Regulus choked as she pressed her face close to his, "Thievery is on par with blood treachery in this house, boy. I will not have marauders and blood traitors for sons."

She straightened to her full height, looming over them both, "Your punishment will need to be severe to dissuade you from this sort of tomfoolery in future."

She raised her wand and pointed it at Regulus and he stiffened, readying himself for the first wave of pain.

"It's mine," Sirius admitted suddenly. "I brought it into the house. It's my fault, Mother."

Walburga lowered her wand and smirked at her son, "I already knew it was yours, Sirius. I just wanted you to admit it. Still, you saw fit to bring this Muggle contraption into our house. You might not think it much to be concerned over, but this is how it starts, boys - this is how the mudbloods get beneath your skin. They shower you in gifts and praises, they gain your confidence and then when your guard is down they strike."

She slammed palm down hard onto the kitchen table making Regulus jump with fright and the toy bounce into the air. It clattered back onto the table and began to slowly roll away, but Walburga took no notice of it. Sirius didn't react; he'd heard all of this many times before - mudbloods and their conspiracies to wipe out the purebloods. When he had told Frank Longbottom what his Mother had said, he'd laughed. Sirius thought it was nonsense too, but he didn't find it as funny.

The anger melted from Walburga's face and she said soothingly, "I understand, my sons. Mudbloods are by their very nature deceptive; it is not beneath them to seduce children with cheap trinkets like this," she waved carelessly at the toy car. "They often try to trick impressionable young minds like your own into their way of thinking. I do not blame you for being taken in by them, they can be very persuasive. Really, the fault lies nowhere but at their feet."

She paused to let those words sink in, to give the impression that perhaps today, they would avoid punishment.

"Still," she noted lightly. "You both lied to me. And that cannot be tolerated."

She swished her wand through the air and summoned the tawse. Sirius' stomach clenched at the sight of the thick, hard leather that split into two tails at the end. He'd felt the end of that belt more times than he cared to remember, but the sting from its tail never lessened. His mother snatched the belt out of the air and held it out to Sirius. He stared at the offering with growing confusion and dread, "Mother…"

"I've lost count the number of times I've used this on you, but the message never seems to sink in," she interrupted, her eyes flitting towards Regulus. "Perhaps if Regulus were to begin receiving punishments on your behalf, you might learn your lesson."

Regulus whimpered and bowed his head again. Sirius gaped at his mother and protested, "But that's not fair."

"And that is entirely your fault," she replied pointedly brandishing the belt in her son's face, but he didn't take it. She glared down at him and warned, "If you don't do it, then I will do it myself. But it will be twice as hard for twice as long."

Sirius glanced at his little brother who stood shaking like a leaf beside him, staring fixedly at his feet. Sirius' head was spinning - the last thing in the world he wanted to do was hurt him, to punish him for something that wasn't his fault. But his mother's threats weren't empty - he knew she would hurt him far worse than he ever could. As his internal conflict raged on he stood immobile, undecided. Walburga sighed impatiently and raised the belt at Regulus, "Very well, I'll do it myself."

"No!" snapped Sirius snatching the belt from his mother's hand. "I'll do it."

Walburga smiled appraisingly at him, "Good boy. Five lashings should do it. Regulus - your hands, please."

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut tightly and raised his palms in offering to his brother. Sirius felt sick - Regulus' hands were so small, the flesh of his palms pale and unmarked unlike his own. Every fibre of his being was screaming against him at what he was about to do, but he knew that he was saving his brother a far greater punishment in the long run. He brought the belt down hard with a loud crack.

* * *

Regulus lay on Sirius' bed sobbing silently. His hands were so badly swollen that he couldn't even clench his fists. Sirius gently lay a hand on his brother's shoulder, a small comfort to what he'd just put him through.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. He didn't know what else to say. He meant it, too. Regulus sniffed back snot and tears.

"I know," he replied thickly. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have taken it from you."

"You shouldn't have gotten caught with it," Sirius corrected him. "And this isn't your fault. It's hers. She's just an evil old hag."

Regulus shook his head but said nothing. Sirius sighed - there was no point in trying to convince his brother otherwise - even after this, in Regulus' mind his mother could do no wrong. It was easier to shoulder the blame than to accept what his mother really was. Sirius slid off of the bed and pulled back the loose floorboard and began to rummage through the gap in the floor, "I've got something that'll make your hands feel better. Just give me a sec."

Regulus watched his brother with interest, a welcome distraction to the welts forming on his palms. After a few moments Sirius pulled his arm out of the floor holding a small glass jar. Sitting back onto the bed he unscrewed the lid and scooped a foul-smelling yellow clay onto his fingers.

"Here, give me your hands," he asked. Regulus tentatively brought his hands forwards and flinched when Sirius began applying the substance to his inflamed skin. To his surprise and relief, the pain in his hands began to ease.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Murtlap essence," explained Sirius, now applying the salve to the other hand. "I made it myself - it really helps after she's used the belt or if father...you know. Not much I can do about the effects of the Cruciatus, unfortunately. I just have to suck it up when they decide to use that."

Once Regulus' hands were completely covered Sirius wrapped them in bandages. His hands were still throbbing, but the pain had definitely lessened. Once Sirius was finished he gave his brother an appraising smile, "Better?"

Regulus nodded. Sirius stashed the jar and bandages back under the floorboard and pulled out a comic book, "Have you read the newest issue?"

Regulus shook his head. Sirius flopped onto the end of the bed and opened it at the first page, "You fancy reading it?"

"Where did you get it?" he asked.

"Stole it," Sirius replied simply. He rolled his eyes at his brother's incredulous expression and explained, "Well, I couldn't buy it, could I? She always checks what we spend our pocket money on and if she found out I'd bought another one of these I'd get it worse than you just did. Martin goes to Atlantis in this issue, it's really good."

"I'm not in the mood," he murmured, burying his face into the pillow. Sirius tossed the comic onto the floor and lay down next to his brother on the bed, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

"Better?" he asked. Regulus nodded. They lay there in silence for a long time, not that there was much to say. It was a fairly regular occurrence for Sirius to get beatings and he had learned to take them somewhat in his stride, but this was the first time he had been made to punish Regulus. His little brother seemed rattled by the ordeal. Not that Sirius wasn't upset of course, he was just less surprised by what his mother had done than Regulus was. It had been a particularly cruel and clever move on her part, he thought; if pain wouldn't keep him in line, perhaps guilt would.

Desperate to distract Regulus from the pain in his hands and from his own overwhelming guilt, Sirius began to quietly sing a lullaby he had heard his Aunt Druella [ sing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmHhWWKEiAs) :

_"Bright morning stars are rising_

_Day is a breaking in my soul_

_Where are our dear mothers_

_Day is breaking in my soul…"_

He paused to gauge Regulus' reaction. After a moment, Regulus shakily sang the next line:

_"Where are our dear fathers_

_They have gone to heaven a shouting_

_Day is breaking in my soul…"_

They lay their singing to one another - quietly so not to draw their mother's attention. As they sang, Sirius closed his eyes and imagined that the music was carrying them both far, far away from this place, up into the sky and amongst the stars just like in the song. They were singing for happier times that he knew would never come for them, but it was nice to pretend at least for a moment that he and Reg were anywhere else but here.

"You think we'll go to Atlantis one day?" asked Regulus suddenly.

"Course we will," Sirius lied.


	5. Wish You Were Here

_March, 1979_

Regulus woke with a start. It took him a few seconds to relax and realise he was still in his own bed. He sighed and rolled onto his back. It must have been the rain battering off of the window that had woken him up.

 _Creak_.

He sat bolt upright. No, it definitely wasn’t the rain that had roused him. He listened intently, unmoving as he stared into the darkness of his bedroom. He couldn’t hear anything, then—

 _Creak_.

Regulus grabbed his wand and moved as quickly and quietly as possible out into the hall, his senses piqued. Someone was moving about the house and it sounded like it was coming from Sirius’ old bedroom. Stepping closer to the bedroom he saw a sliver of light move under the doorframe.

His heart was beating so hard in his chest it hurt but he kept moving, gripping his wand tightly, ready for whatever he was about to face. Placing his hand on the bedroom door that was already ajar, he pushed it open and stepped into the room. A large figure was moving on the far side, shrouded in darkness. Regulus moved further into the room and pointed his wand at the stranger.

“Whatever you’re looking for, it doesn’t belong to you,” Regulus announced and the figure in the darkness stilled. “So I suggest you put it down and leave before I lose my hospitable manner.”

The figure in the dark barked with laughter, “On the contrary, brother, everything in this room is mine. Or at least it used to be.”

Regulus’ eyes widened. He swished his wand and flames sparked to life in the candelabras, bathing the figure in soft light.

“Sirius,” he breathed.

Sirius pulled back the hood of his sodden cloak and smiled, “Hello, Reg.”

Sirius looked older and more worn than he remembered – he had dark shadows under his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. But his eyes were warm with affection, like his smile.

“It’s good to see you,” he said softly.

Regulus lowered his wand, “What are you doing here?”

“Came for my record collection,” he quipped.

“I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you in two years and you turn up in the middle of the night to pick up your old records?” mused Regulus skeptically.

Sirius shrugged, “I figured you’d rather I tell you that than explain why I’m really here.”

“Is it to do with the Order?” he asked.

Sirius didn’t answer. Regulus took his silence as a confirmation.

“Father’s dead,” said Regulus conversationally.

“I heard,” replied Sirius.

“Mother’s lost the plot,” he continued.

“Thought she already had,” he joked, then added more gently. “How is she managing without him?”

“As well as you’d expect,” Regulus shrugged.

“So not well at all,” said Sirius.

“No,” admitted Regulus.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“In bed,” said Regulus. “So you better get out of here before she wakes up, too.”

“I will, just let me get what I came for and I won’t bother you again,” he asked.

Regulus considered Sirius’ request for a moment, then pursed his lips and nodded. Sirius crouched down onto his hands and knees and groped for something under the bed. Regulus wandered around to the other side of the bed to get a clearer view of what he was doing and saw that Sirius had pulled up a couple of floorboards and was rummaging through a gap in the floor.

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“Do you really want to know?” Sirius asked breathlessly, a look of frustration in his face as he continued to grope blindly through the hole in the floor.

“ _Lumos_ ,” murmured Regulus and held his wand aloft to provide more light.

“Thanks,” muttered Sirius stopping to peer into the hole and smiled. “Gotcha.”

Regulus watched curiously as Sirius pulled out an old piece of blank parchment and two wands from the hole, swiftly slipping them into the deep pockets of his robes. Regulus held out his hand and helped Sirius to his feet. The two brothers looked at each other for a few moments, neither speaking but with much to say. But Sirius merely nodded and said, “See you later, then.”

He made to leave when Regulus asked, “Aren’t you taking your records?”

Sirius paused and looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow, “You know that wasn’t why I came here.”

“I know,” he nodded, approaching the record player. He pulled a vinyl from its sleeve and placed it carefully onto the player. “But since you’re here, you might as well sit and listen with me for a bit.”

Sirius shifted from one foot to the other, “I don’t really have time for this, Reg.”

“Just one song,” he insisted. Sirius paused for a moment then nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed as Regulus switched on the record player and a tinny guitar began to [ play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXdNnw99-Ic).

“I thought you didn’t want Mother to hear,” Sirius pointed out.

“She won’t,” he assured him before casting a silencing charm and sitting down next to his brother. They listened to the music in silence for a few moments, deep in thought.     

“How’s Remus?” asked Regulus.

Sirius shrugged, “Well enough. There’s a lot of pressure on him to join the werewolf ranks in the Dark Rebellion.”

“Pressure from whom?” Regulus pressed.

“From both sides,” he sighed. “Dumbledore thinks he should follow the Dark Rebellion’s demands and go undercover for us. But he’s not keen on the idea.”

“Not keen on leaving you?” Regulus ventured.

“In part,” he admitted. “It’s dangerous work, and he’s not all that confident they’ll trust him.”

“That’s because they shouldn’t,” Regulus pointed out.

Sirius smirked, “Very true.”

“I’m surprised the Dark Lord aligns himself with their kind,” muttered Regulus.

“Although we have diverging opinions on the matter, I have often wondered the same thing,” mused Sirius. “I suppose he just offers them something that the Ministry doesn’t. He’ll take supporters wherever he can at the moment. Things are getting really bad out there — more people are disappearing or turning up dead every day.”

“I know,” sighed Regulus.

“You’ll be graduating soon,” said Sirius. “Have you thought about what you want to do after you leave?”

Regulus shrugged, “Not really. With a war going on, my options are fairly limited.”

“That they are,” agreed Sirius with a wry smile. “We could always run away like we said we would when we were younger. Become pirates and sail the seven seas like Martin Miggs.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and laughed, “Martin Miggs was an awful pirate.”

Sirius shrugged, “Being bad at something never stopped me from trying it. Come to think of it, I might still have a couple old issues kicking about…”

He slipped off of the bed and rummaged under the floorboards again. A moment later he pulled out a bunch of old, yellowed comic books with ‘The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle’ emblazoned on the cover. Regulus picked one up and flicked through it grinning, “I remember when Mother caught you with one of these.”

Sirius barked with laughter, “Yeah, she tanned my hide for it. More fool me for leaving it somewhere easy for her to find. I never made that mistake again.”

Settling back onto the bed next to Regulus, Sirius scanned through the pile of comics, “Let’s see…where could we go? Ah!” He pulled out one comic from the pile, “This is perfect for us – we could be archaeologists in Egypt. Search for treasures and ward off mummies and evil spirits.”

“Or…” Regulus pulled another comic from the pile. “We could hunt for the abominable snowman in the Himalayas?”

“Hmm, I was hoping we could go somewhere warmer,” mused Sirius rifling through the pile again. “How about Columbia? We could go searching for the Lost City of El Dorado. Set up camp there until this whole thing blows over.”

Regulus smiled fondly, “That sounds like a grand idea.”

They smiled sadly at each other. Regulus tossed the comic book back onto the bed, “I don’t think it matters how far we run Sirius, this is all going to come to a head one way or another.”

Sirius bowed his head, “I know.”

“Still,” said Regulus with a dreamy expression. “It’s nice to imagine leaving it all behind. I always thought we’d go on grand adventures together.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sirius nodded, then said cautiously. “We still could, you know.”

“What?” asked Regulus frowning.

“You could always come with me,” Sirius offered.

Regulus stared, “Go where?”

“To join the Order,” he suggested hopefully.

Regulus looked incredulous, “You can’t be serious.”

“I am!” said Sirius, his eyes wide with excitement and desperation. “It’s only a matter of time before this war is on your doorstep, too. Better to leave now than wait around here for the Dark Rebellion to kick in the door.”

Regulus shook his head, “I can’t just leave. What about Mother?”

“Don’t worry about her!” Sirius waved his hand dismissively. “They won’t be bothered with an old, senile pureblood. Plus, she’s Bellatrix and Narcissa’s aunt! They wouldn’t dare touch her. But you and me Reg, we could fight this thing. Together. It’ll be like when we were young, picking fights with the Rosier brothers.”

“It won’t be anything like that,” Regulus chided. “That was playground antics, you said it yourself – people are dying out there. Picking sides is a matter of life and death.”

“Everyone’s going to have to pick a side one way or another,” he argued. “Come on Reg, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye on everything, but we’re on the same side of this fight.”

“No we’re not,” said Regulus angrily. “We haven’t been on the same side for a very long time. Not since you chose a werewolf over your own flesh and blood.”

Sirius snarled, “I didn’t want to leave you, but you know I had no choice but to leave. Father was ready to kill me himself before you stepped in!”

“But you facilitated the confrontation by bringing Remus to the house in the first place! You knew how Father would react if he caught you,” he argued.

Sirius growled in frustration, “Look, what happened that day is beside the point. Regardless of what’s happened between us, all the fighting and the disagreements, you’re still my brother. Not just my flesh and blood, we’re friends.”

“Is that why I haven’t seen you in the past two years?” he sneered.

“We’ve been friends for more of our life than not,” Sirius pointed out. “We might not have always got on, but you know if you ever needed me I’ve always had your back. I’ve got your back now. Come on Reg, let’s put our petty squabbles aside and we can face this together.”

Regulus almost looked half-convinced, but his shoulders sagged and he shook his head, “Even if I wanted to Sirius, I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” Sirius challenged.

“I mean I _can’t_!” cried Regulus, his voice breaking.

Sirius stilled, “What do you mean?”

“Even if I wanted to…it’s too late,” he replied hoarsely, unconsciously touching his left forearm. Sirius’ eyes followed the movement of his hand and his eyes narrowed. Without warning he grabbed Regulus’ arm and thrust up his sleeve. He already knew what he would find before he uncovered it, but the sight of the Dark Mark branded onto his brother’s flesh still shook him to his core. He stared at it, wide-eyed with horror. Regulus tried to shake his arm free but Sirius’ grip only tightened.

“You stupid boy,” he growled. His grip on Regulus’ arm was so tight now it was painful. “What have you done?”

“I did as you suggested, Sirius,” he replied with a note of defiance in his voice. “I chose a side.”

Sirius gaped at his brother, “Did father make you do this?”

“No,” Regulus lifted his head up proudly. “I chose to take the Dark Mark freely.”

Sirius dropped Regulus’ arm, shell-shocked, “That’s a death sentence on your arm.”

“And that’s a death sentence on your chest,” Regulus spat viciously tearing Sirius’ cloak aside to reveal a gold phoenix emblazoned on his robes.

“Dumbledore doesn’t brand us like cattle to prove our allegiance,” snarled Sirius, slapping Regulus’ hand away.

Regulus pulled his sleeve back down over the black skull and serpent tattoo. “I wear this with as much pride as you wear yours.”

Sirius sneered, “Pride? Is that why you hide it from me?” Regulus averted his gaze and said nothing. Sirius rubbed his tired eyes and groaned, “Why would you do this, Reg? Have you any idea what these people are capable of?”

“I know that they’re serious about their cause,” he replied.

Sirius shook his head, “I’ve had run-ins with them more than once, they’re nothing but trouble.”

Regulus rounded on Sirius, “Trouble? That’s rich coming from you! You’ve spent your whole life chasing after trouble! The first time in my life I put a toe out of line and you have the gall to criticise me for it!”

“This isn’t some silly game of one-upmanship Regulus, these people are dangerous,” he warned. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“I’ll be fine,” he argued. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a while now, thanks. I can manage without you perfectly well.”

“Oh really?” he sneered. “Left to your own devices you’ve joined a fucking death cult! What possessed you?”

“Because I believe in him,” explained Regulus, an impassioned look in his eyes. “I believe in what he has to offer.”

“Torture? Murder?” decried Sirius.

“Change, Sirius!” countered Regulus. “A real alternative to the status quo. He’s willing to challenge the same old corrupt, bureaucratic system that’s operated at the Ministry for years and finally set things right.”

“All he offers are lies and deceit,” warned Sirius. “You’re supposed to be the smart one out of the two of us, can’t you see that he’s only telling you what you want to hear?”

“He speaks the truth!” argued Regulus. “For too long, we purebloods have been made to feel ashamed of our traditions. Why should we have to change our beliefs and practices just to make Mudbloods feel part of a world that isn’t really theirs? Our rights are being stripped away in order to accommodate those who have no history in or understanding of our world.”

“You just sound like you’re repeating verbatim crap from some Death Eater recruitment pamphlet,” spat Sirius.

“It’s true and you know it!” he cried. “Mudbloods. Centaurs. Goblins. Half-breeds. We’re all expected to bend our knee to them and let them pollute us with their primitive way of life.”

“They are all part of our world, Reg,” argued Sirius. “The magical world is stronger for its diversity. Just because they’re different doesn’t make them less than us.”

“Don’t treat them like they’re noble savages,” scoffed Regulus. “They all cause nothing but trouble. Our heritage – our blood – is under threat from these outsiders. They’re trying to eradicate us from the inside! First they integrate themselves into our society – taking up Ministry jobs in droves and forcing their propaganda down our throats. Telling us that werewolves and goblins should be accorded the same rights as the rest of us. That Muggles, with no magic of their own, should be treated as our equals. That’s when they encourage miscegenation, all in a deliberate attempt to turn purebloods into the minority. Eventually there won’t be any of us left!”

Sirius gaped at his brother, “Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a fanatic. Ranting about Muggles and magical creatures plotting to take over the Ministry like it’s some grand fucking conspiracy.”

“That’s what’s happening,” he retorted. “You might be blind to the truth, but I’m not. I’m not going to sit back and let my own people be snuffed out of existence.”

Sirius’ face screwed up in disgust, “You talk about Muggles like they’re not even human.”

Regulus shrugged, “They might look like us and try to behave like we do, but our natures, our culture, our beliefs – they are fundamentally different.”

Sirius grunted, “You mean they’re inferior to us. Do you really believe that? We have Muggles in our own family for fuck’s sake! We bleed the same blood, shed the same tears, we are the same damn thing!”

“No, we’re not!” Regulus’ voice boomed with unmovable conviction. “I am better than them. I was _born_ better than them. Magic is my birth rite.”  

Sirius shook his head in disgust, “If you seriously believe that then you really are beyond help.”

“You’re in no position to be taking the moral high ground on this, Sirius,” spat Regulus, his face contorted with fury. “It’s not above you to keep a beast in your bed.”

Sirius gave a hollow laugh, “Oh, we’re back to this again. I wondered when this was going to come up. Tell me brother, what bothers you the most? The fact that he’s a werewolf, that he’s a half-blood or that he’s a bloke?”

“Take your pick!” he snapped.

Sirius smiled grimly, “Who I sleep with is the least of your worries. You’ve gotten yourself in a hole so deep you can’t get out of it, and I think you know it. All that shit about conspiracies and pureblood genocide, you’re not trying to convince me of it – you know you’ll never change my mind – you’re just trying to convince yourself.”

“Shut up,” hissed Regulus, but Sirius persisted.

“You’ve signed up for this thinking it’d make a man out of you and you’ve quickly realised you’re out of your depth. You’re just trying to convince yourself you didn’t make the worst decision of your life.”

“SHUT UP!” shouted Regulus jumping to his feet.

Sirius slowly got to his feet and loomed over his brother, “I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, Reg. I’m saying it because it’s the truth. You’re in over your head, and if you continue this folly you’re going to end up dead or worse.”

Regulus glared at his brother. Sirius, always so sure of himself, unafraid of everything that life threw at him no longer looked angry, he looked afraid. Afraid for him. Regulus folded his arms and declared, “I think you should go now.”

Sirius didn’t move, “You don’t have to do this. Dumbledore will help you, we can protect you.”

“No, you can’t,” Regulus replied flatly.

“We can!” he implored. “Even now, it’s not too late for you to walk away. You still have a choice.”

“I’ve already made mine,” said Regulus. There was no heat behind his words, but his expression was resolute.

Sirius’ shoulders sagged, “You’re my baby brother. I’m supposed to protect you.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Sirius,” he replied. “I’ve already said I can take care of myself.”

“I hope so,” Sirius murmured, although he wasn’t convinced that he really could. Sirius glanced between the door and his brother, hesitant to leave. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he walked out of the door now, this would be the last time the two brothers would ever see each other again.

“Regulus—“

“This is the last time I’m covering for you, Sirius,” Regulus cut in calmly. “I won’t repeat anything that was said in this room tonight, but after you walk out that door, all bets are off.”

Music filled the growing silence and space between them. Sirius knew that there was no convincing his brother otherwise, so he bowed his head and nodded.

“We were never much alike, were we?” mused Regulus. “Even though we look so similar.”

“I suppose not,” admitted Sirius. “You were always the better son.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But you were the better brother.”

“We’re still brothers,” Sirius reminded him. “You remember that. If you ever change your mind, or if you need help…I’ll always have your back.”

Regulus hugged himself, looking uncertain. He grimaced and gave a curt nod.

They had come to an impasse.

Sirius wasn’t sure he was ready to let his brother go, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. He pulled Regulus into a fierce hug, and his brother returned it in kind. Though neither said it, both knew this was their final goodbye.

A maelstrom of emotions swelled up inside of Sirius: anger for the world that had facilitated these circumstances that would tear two brothers asunder; fierce love and loyalty for his foolish brother; fear for the unknown yet to come as Regulus’ path diverged from his own. Despite all the fighting and disagreements and even through their estrangement, Sirius had always been sure that they would find each other again. That they would walk through life together — at arm’s length, perhaps — but that they would always be there for each other. But that wasn’t to be. There would be no hero’s end to this tale. This was, after all, the real world.

Sirius broke away and pulled up his hood.

“Goodbye, brother,” he said hoarsely, the true depth of the parting words hung heavy in the air. He turned on his heel and moved quickly and quietly out of the house and out of his brother’s life forever.

 


	6. Coming Back to Life

_June 1994_

 

Sirius sat waiting at the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place, bouncing his knee up and down nervously. It had been almost a year to the day since he had been reunited with Remus, only to be forced to abscond the very same night. He’d written to him of course, but he had his reasons for not wanting to meet in person since his return to Britain a few months earlier. Partly for Remus’ own safety, of course - anyone caught in the company of an escaped convict would be guaranteed a one-way trip to Azkaban. Werewolves, however, were promised something far worse…

Sirius shivered involuntarily at the memory of the Dementors. During his time in Azkaban they had always been unpleasant but manageable given his animagus abilities. But his last run-in with them, that night with Harry by the Black Lake - coming so close to a fate worse than death - had instilled in him a deeper fear than ever before. Still, he’d rather face off against a hundred Dementors than deal with the inevitable confrontation to come.

He glanced at the old grandfather clock on the other side of the room and sighed. Remus was late. This only served to increase his anxiety - Remus was always punctual - was he hurt or in danger? Even if he was, what the hell could he do about it? He didn’t even have a wand. Maybe Remus just wasn’t going to show because he didn’t want to talk to Sirius. Their reunion at the Shrieking Shack had been amicable but brief - too brief to really address what needed to be said. Even in their letters to one another they had avoided touching on certain subjects. But now that the Order of the Phoenix was reformed, they would need to be in each other’s company a lot more often. They had both agreed that the air needed to be cleared between them, but Sirius wasn’t sure once he opened the floodgates that he’d be able to keep his thoughts and feelings in check. This was the real reason he had been so reluctant to meet Remus face to face.

The fireplace erupted in green flames and Sirius jumped to his feet, his heart hammering like a drum in his chest. A moment later Remus stepped through the fire into the gloomy kitchen, looking more disheveled than ever. He brushed soot off of his worn cloak, but it did little to improve its shabby appearance. Carelessly running his hand through his shaggy brown hair, now streaked grey at the temples, he gave Sirius a small but warm smile.

“Padfoot,” he greeted him quietly with a slight nod. Sirius couldn’t answer. Even if he didn’t have the large lump in his throat, he seemed temporarily lost for words - that had to be a first. Instead he stepped forward and pulled Remus into a tight hug, sighing contentedly as Remus rested his head on his shoulder and squeezed him back.

 _He still looks wonderful_ , he thought fondly. It was always this way with Remus - all of life’s worries and troubles melted away at his touch. It was a kind of magic that Sirius didn’t really understand. He’d never told Remus that’s how it felt - always too afraid to analyse the depth of own feelings - but he’d had a long time to think on it, and after seeing him again at the Shrieking Shack, he knew even after all this time his feelings for the man hadn’t changed. The question was whether Remus still felt the same way. At least in this briefest of moments, standing in the kitchen together again, Sirius didn’t feel like his whole world was going to shit.

And all too soon Remus broke away, looking sheepish and avoiding Sirius’ eyes. The surety he’d felt only moments before was already slipping away and he desperately wanted it back.

“Moony--”

“I’ve brought something for you,” Remus cut in, pulling a wand out of his pocket and handing it to him. Sirius’ eyes widened when he saw it and took it from Remus’ outstretched hand. He inspected it closely; by the looks of it, it was brand new - ten inches, cypress wood, phoenix feather core.

“Thank you,” he breathed, feeling the magic course through his arm and into the wand. He smiled at Remus, “This feels quite compatible. Where’d you get it?”

“Ollivander’s,” he explained. “I know you well enough to get one that would suit your personality.”

Sirius gave him an appraising smile and pocketed the wand. Remus smiled mischievously, “I also got you a present.”

“Something better than a wand?” asked Sirius lightly. Remus smirked and pulled a large vinyl from his robes. Sirius frowned at the unexpected gift, then froze when his eyes fell on the band’s name.

“Pink Floyd?” he asked in a choked voice.

“They’re still going strong,” Remus assured him. “This is their newest album. I thought you’d like to hear it. You’ve got a lot of music to catch up on.”

“Yeah,” Sirius laughed weakly, thinking he had a hell of a lot more than music to catch up on. He ran the palm of his hand covetously over the smooth, cardboard cover, “I can’t remember the last time I heard music.”

“Well, at least that’s one problem we can solve tonight,” Remus promised stepping passed him in the direction for the hallway. “I’m assuming your record player still works?”

“Uh, I haven’t checked,” he admitted. “I only got back here a few hours ago.”

“I can tell,” noted Remus looking around the ancient, rotting interior as he ascended the rickety staircase. “Is Kreacher still around?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Sirius grumbled, climbing after him. “He nearly had a fit when he saw me. I sent him up to the loft to have his temper tantrum and leave me in peace.”

Remus grunted, “I don’t imagine seeing me in here will help matters much.”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” said Sirius pausing as they reached the top of the third floor landing. “I’m his Master, now; he has to do as I say, whether he likes it or not. That includes keeping his vile opinions about us to himself.”

“He’s just being honest,” Remus shrugged, pushing the door open to Sirius’ bedroom. “Nothing wrong with being honest once in a while. It’s a quality most people are sorely lacking in.”

Sirius felt his insides squirm at the obvious jab, but said nothing. Stepping into his old bedroom he was surprised to see everything appeared to be untouched from his last visit fifteen years previously. He thought if Regulus hadn’t bothered removing his belongings, surely his mother would have. But everything remained exactly where he’d left it, down to the Martin Miggs comics left discarded on the floor by the loose floorboard.

Sirius swished his wand a few times, casting a quick Scourgify to try and remove a decades worth of dust and decay from the room. The thick layer of dust that covered the record player vanished, but the smell of damp and decay still filled his nostrils. It’ll do for now, he thought. Raising his wand again the candelabra lit up, bathing the room in soft candlelight. Even in this light, the room looked derelict, but if it bothered Remus he gave no indication that it did.

“You look well,” Remus noted sitting carefully on the edge of the moth-eaten bed. Sirius barked with laughter.

“I couldn’t look much worse than the last time you saw me. Still, a few months of sun and rest did me the world of good.”

Sirius eagerly slipped the new vinyl into the record player, tapping the side of it with his wand and a scratchy sound began to emanate from the speakers. Sirius stood silently watching the disc spin as an ethereal piano and guitar began to [ play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yjoPWxmOCtc). That sound...he closed his eyes and sighed. It was just as good as he remembered.

“They’ve still got that old magic,” he smiled, turning to face Remus.

“Hmm,” Remus bowed his head and stared at his feet. Sirius hesitated for a moment before sitting down next to Remus, the bed sagging under the weight of the two men. An awkward silence followed as neither man had the courage to look at the other. Finally, Sirius cleared his throat and croaked, “I know we need to talk, but I don’t even know where to begin.”

“From the beginning,” suggested Remus. “We’ve only touched on it in our letters - when you began to suspect I was the traitor.”

 _Trust Moony to go straight for the jugular_ , thought Sirius as a fresh wave of shame swept over him, but he nodded, “I suppose that’s as good a place as any. To be honest, I don’t know where the idea came from - maybe Peter was the one to suggest it, maybe James. But given the information that was getting back to the Dark Order, we figured it had to be someone close to James; it could only be you or Peter.”

“And how did you conclude it was me?” Remus enquired lightly, although his jaw was tense. Sirius shrugged.

“Peter...seemed harmless. We didn’t think he was capable or clever enough to pull off being a double agent. That’s why we thought…”

“Me,” finished Remus shortly.

“Someone who’s spent their whole life being marginalised, treated worse than a dog. Then comes the promise of a better life - it seemed all too tempting to resist,” Sirius explained.

“For you, perhaps,” Remus argued. “I never would have considered it.”

“I know you wouldn’t have…now I know,” Sirius replied weakly.

“But not then,” said Remus, his voice becoming strained. “Your bullshit about believing there being more to me than my illness, I ate it up - I wanted to believe you believed in me. I thought you were different. That was very naïve of me. At the end of the day, when you looked at me you saw the same thing as everyone else – not Remus or Moony or your boyfriend or the bookworm. You saw a werewolf. A disease. That’s all any of you see.”

“That’s not true,” Sirius argued, reaching his hand out towards Remus’ resting on the bed, but Remus snatched it away.

“It is. Even if you can’t admit it to yourself,” Remus laughed bitterly. “You and James always talked a big talk about not caring about my disease; that it didn’t define me as a person. But at the end of the day, you thought as little of me as everybody else did. And you can blame your pureblood upbringing all you like, but I know the truth; I might have been your friend, your little pet scarpering after the both of you to amuse you – but you would never see me as an equal. Deep down you still held the same doubts and prejudices about me as everyone else.”

The words poured out of Remus like a broken Time Turner, but Sirius listened carefully to what he had to say. He knew Remus had been carrying this around for a long time and although it hurt to hear the words, he had to hear it - he owed it to Remus to let him share his side of the story. Remus continued, “I can see why you’d think I was the traitor - I was the obvious choice; how could I, a werewolf, turn down the opportunity that the Dark Lord presented to me, hmm? To no longer be an outcast like I was back then, like I still am now. A chance at normalcy, at equality.

“Only I would never accept his offer because he always spoke lies, Sirius. Empty promises, and too many people were stupid enough to believe them. And even if I did believe what he said, I couldn’t buy into it because I knew what the real cost would have been; to gain my rights by forfeiting the rights of other - from people like Lily? The cost was always too high.”

Merlin, had Remus been carrying that around with him all this time? No wonder he’d started going grey. Sirius wrung his hands together in his lap, staring at his feet as he spoke, “I can’t excuse what happened - we got it wrong. I got it wrong. But you remember what it was like back then - the constant of fear and paranoia - anyone could have been Polyjuiced, Imperiused, blackmailed...I didn’t want to believe that there was a traitor among us, but I was terrified of losing James. I figured it was safer if I acted as a red herring - nobody would suspect that Peter was the true Secret Keeper. It seemed like a win-win situation; the best case scenario was that we were wrong and there was no traitor but it would still keep James, Lily and Harry safe from harm. But of course, that’s not what happened.”

“Murphy’s fucking Law,” grumbled Remus.

“Too right it was,” Sirius muttered. He finally forced himself to meet Remus’ gaze and felt his chest tighten at the stricken expression on his face, “I’m sorry, Remus. For everything.”

“I know you are,” he sighed wearily, rubbing his tired eyes. “I can’t say I thought much better of you. For years I thought you’d been the one to betray us. I was too easily convinced, perhaps. I should have come to see you in Azkaban, but I was too angry and hurt; not only had you managed to convince James to turn against me, but you had betrayed him into the bargain. I...I thought you’d used my feelings for you against me.”

Sirius shook his head slowly, “The moment I saw James’ cottage in ruins, I knew what had happened - that it was Peter, not you. I realised then how badly I’d fucked up. I should have gone to you then, Remus. But I wasn’t thinking straight - I just knew I had to find Peter before he disappeared behind Voldemort’s tailcoats.”

“You were never famed for controlling your temper in the heat of the moment,” mused Remus, but he had a softness to his expression that raised Sirius’ spirits a little. “The last time we were here is a testament to that.”

Sirius’ moment of hope deflated as quickly as it had arisen. He bowed his head shamefully, “Yes, I remember that day well. That’s another thing I probably should have apologised for at the time.”

“Probably,” Remus agreed. “Just be honest with me, Sirius - did you plan on your father finding out about us? Like that?”

Sirius hesitated before admitting, “I hadn’t planned it, but there was a small part of me that was glad that he found out. The biggest fuck you to my parents was to find me in bed with someone they hated as much as me.”

“It was a pretty big fuck you to me, too,” Remus pointed out.

“I know,” said Sirius. “I was young and stupid.”

“Now you’re just old and stupid,” grumbled Remus.

“Can’t deny that,” he admitted then added quietly. “It was unkind the way I treated you, Remus.”

Remus snorted, “Unkind? It was outright cruel. Humiliating me was deemed a worthy sacrifice to get a rise out of your father.”

“You’re right,” he shrugged. “I’m selfish, I’m cruel, I’ve only ever thought about myself. And I don’t think before I act. But throwing caution to the wind hasn’t always worked against me - it got you to kiss me that day.”

Sirius sank to his knees and grabbed Remus’ hands, whose eyes widened with shock. _Fuck it_ , thought Sirius. _Throw caution to the wind, it’s about the only thing you’re good at._

“I knew how you felt about me, then,” he admitted. “I knew and I pissed it up the wall. I didn’t believe in you. I broke your trust and there’s no forgiving that. But I need you to know - and I know you probably won’t believe me when I say this because you’ve no reason to believe anything I say – but I felt the same way. I still do.”

“Don’t,” warned Remus in a shaky voice. “Don’t do this to me.”

“You wanted me to speak honestly about how I feel? Then I will,” he persisted. “I love you, Remus. I haven’t always loved you very well, but I always have and I still do.”

“Stop it!” shouted Remus pushing Sirius’ hands away. “I am not going through this with you again. I came here tonight to try and sort things out between us. For the Order.”

“For the Order,” scoffed Sirius sitting back on his hind legs. “Did the Order tell you to bring me a gift as well?”

Remus’ pale cheeks flushed pink and Sirius’ stomach twisted with guilt. He hadn’t intended to embarrass him. Sirius rested his hands on Remus’ knees and braced himself for Remus to push him away again, but he didn’t. Sirius continued carefully.

“I’ve had thirteen years to think about all the things I did wrong. I’ve fucked up a lot of things, but the biggest mistake of my life was not trusting you. It’s taken me going to hell and back to realise what we had and how I squandered it.”

“What are you saying?” Remus asked cautiously.

“I’m asking if you still feel the same way,” Sirius chanced. “If there’s anything more than friendship to be salvaged tonight. I’m sick and tired of living with regrets and I know that if I don’t ask you this, I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what could have been.”

Remus gave a hollow laugh, “Despite your protestations, you’ve always had a way with words. We’ve been through this before, Sirius – your undying declaration of love sounds appealing, but your words can’t disguise what’s in your heart.”

“My heart?” he cried incredulously. “I’m pouring my heart out to you now, Moony! You complain about me not being open and honest with you and the minute I am, you throw it back in my face!”

“You’re lying to yourself as much as me, Sirius,” argued Remus. “When we got together, I knew even then that given the choice, you would always choose James over me. You couldn’t have what you really wanted, so I was a convenient back-up. But I was too besotted with you to really care. I was so desperate for you to love me, I didn’t care that I knew you always loved him more.”

“Bullshit,” spat Sirius.

“It’s the truth,” Remus raged on. “Well, I’m not a teenager anymore and I’m telling you now that I cannot compete against the affections of a dead man. I won’t.”

“I’m not asking you to,” cried Sirius desperately. “I don’t _want_ you to!”

“Then show me,” he challenged. “Show me who is in your heart.”

“Fine!” spat Sirius pulling his wand from his pocket, glaring at Remus as he thrust his wand into the air and cried, _“Expecto Patronum!”_

The dank room momentarily exploded in a dazzling array of white light as a large wolf sprang from the tip of his wand and sprinted around the room. Remus sat staring at it wide-eyed with disbelief. The wolf turned to Remus and padded across the room towards him, rubbing its head against his thigh before dissolving into nothing.

“It’s you, Remus,” said Sirius quietly, staring up at him. “It’s always been you.”

Remus slipped off of the bed and onto his knees, cupping Sirius’ cheeks. His grip was so tight as though he were afraid if he let Sirius go he might disappear. The look in Remus’ eyes made Sirius’ breath hitch - elated, unsure, afraid, wanton...it was almost too overwhelming. Sirius rested his hands on top of Remus’ in reassurance, a silent promise that he wouldn’t be going anywhere this time. Before Sirius could speak again Remus’ lips had crashed against his own and he felt himself tumbling off of the edge into a perfect oblivion, kissing Remus back hard, desperate to convey in one kiss everything this man meant to him.

Shaky breaths filled the silence of the room as the two men gripped each other tightly. It had been a long time since they had last kissed, but Sirius sighed contentedly at how familiar it still felt, even after all this time - the way Remus’ breath hitched as he ran his tongue across the pink scar on his bottom lip, the rich taste of dark chocolate and coffee as their kiss deepened, the stubble on his cheek scratching against his face. Everything about Remus was still perfect.

Sirius’ slipped his hand between Remus’ thighs and pressed against the outline of his erection. Remus’ breath shuddered and he jutted his hips forward into Sirius’ hand, inviting him to explore further. Sirius unzipped Remus’ trousers and grasped his cock in his fist, running his hand up and down the shaft, slow at first but quickly building up speed. Soon enough Remus was moaning in Sirius’ ear, digging his fingernails into his back as he rocked his hips back and forth, pushing himself into Sirius’ fist.

Sirius felt light-headed, his appetite for Remus was insatiable – he knew he would never get enough of the man, he was addicted to everything about him; these moments were his salvation and his torment because he knew that if he ever lost Remus again he would lose himself. He was the half that made him whole.

Sirius broke their kiss and threaded his fingers through the tangle of sandy blonde hair at the nape of Remus’ neck. Resting their foreheads together, both panting heavily from arousal and exertion, Sirius savoured the look on Remus’ face - the short, sharp breaths escaping his lips as his amber eyes glazed over and rolled into the back of his head. Sirius groaned and sped up, knowing Remus must be close now. Remus’ moan deepened into a growl, something distinctly non-human and it gave Sirius a pleasant, sharp shiver down his spine. Remus' head fell back and he cried out as he came, his shaking thighs collapsing underneath him but Sirius was there to catch him, holding him close as they both caught their breath and their senses.

“You’ll stay?” asked Sirius tentatively, running his hand gently through Remus’ hair. Remus nodded.

“I’ll stay so long as you don’t leave again,” he whispered. “I can’t lose you again, Sirius.”

Sirius hugged Remus hard, “I promise.” And he meant it, too. No more running or hiding, “I promise I won’t leave you again.”

Remus sighed and rested his head on Sirius’ shoulder, holding him close as tears streamed down his cheeks. For a few moments Remus felt the rest of the world disappear around them, along with all their many worries, troubles and problems. In that moment, Sirius made him feel like none of that mattered. Even if the world was going to shit - and it was in a rather spectacular fashion, crashing and burning all around them - at least they could still find peace within each other.


	7. I Remember You

_September 1995_

As the front door of number twelve Grimmauld Place opened Remus stalked in, his face like thunder, closely followed by a forlorn-looking Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody, and a large, shaggy black dog bringing up the rear. The moment the front door had closed Remus rounded on the dog and hissed, “I know that you’re prone to bouts of stupidity, but even for you, this was ridiculous!”

Remus’ voice stirred the portrait of Sirius’ mother from her slumber and she began to scream, “Filthy half-breed! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers--”

Remus carelessly flicked his wand at the portrait and Walburga’s screams suddenly fell silent. Remus marched passed her and headed up the stairs, ignoring Walburga as her eyes bulged and she proceeded to bang her fists against the portrait in anger and indignation, demanding to be acknowledged.

“Don’t think that staying in dog-form means that we’re not going to talk about this!” he cried after the dog as it bounded upstairs to the topmost floor. “I don’t care how stupid it looks, you’re going to hear me out!”

Remus followed the dog into Sirius’ bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him. The dog hopped on top of the bed and snarled at Remus.

“I’m not leaving until we talk about this,” he declared, crossing his arms and waiting. The dog whimpered and in the blink of an eye, Sirius was sitting on the edge of the bed, scowling.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing, Moony. It’s not like anyone would’ve recognised me,” he grumbled.

“You don’t know that!” argued Remus. “What if there had been Aurors there? Or Dementors for that matter?”

“But there wasn’t, was there?” he countered. “I get that you’re the voice of reason in this relationship, but you need to lay off me a bit.”

“How can I lay off when you’re putting your life at risk for no good reason?” snapped Remus. “There were plenty of us there to keep an eye on Harry, you needlessly put yourself at risk just so you could piss about at the train station.”

“Harry was happy that I was there,” said Sirius stiffly. “He thought it was funny.”

“He’s fifteen, Sirius, everything is hilarious when you’re that age!” shouted Remus. “You’re supposed to be a responsible adult. Do you really think you being there was going to make Harry safer?”

“I just wanted to see him off at the station like a normal fucking person!” cried Sirius, his voice becoming strained. “That’s what normal people do when their godson’s are heading back to school.”

“That’s a lame excuse,” sneered Remus. “You just wanted to get out of the house.”

“Too fucking right I did!” bellowed Sirius, jumping to his feet. “You don’t know what it’s like! Being stuck in this shithole day in and day out, being of no use to anyone.”

Remus took a steadying breath, struggling to keep his temper in check. When he spoke again his tone was gentler than before, “You’re not useless, Sirius. Far from it. You’ve made one of the biggest contributions to the Order by providing our headquarters.”

“And that’s about all I’ve been able to do,” he grumbled. “I’m little more than a bloody hostess to the Order; running around after everyone making drinks while I’m forced to sit and listen to how everyone else is risking life and limb out there while I sit here with my thumb up my arse. Even Snape - Snivellus - is doing more than I am! I can’t stand it. I can’t stand not doing anything. I can’t stand being in this house a second longer.”

“I understand it’s frustrating,” Remus tried to reason. “But going outside is not worth risking your life over. If someone saw you--”

“I know, Remus. I know,” snapped Sirius. His shoulders sagged and he buried his face in his hands, looking distraught. “I just feel like I’m losing my mind being stuck in here. I can’t even go out into the garden, for fuck’s sake! I’ve just swapped out one prison for another. At least in Azkaban I didn’t have to listen to her shit every day - ‘mudbloods this’ and ‘half-breeds that’. I had enough of that crap growing up to do me a lifetime. Azkaban was a fucking holiday compared to this hellhole.”

“You don’t mean that,” chided Remus.

Sirius gave a hollow laugh, “Oh, I mean every word. I spent my childhood wishing I was anywhere but here. The day I left, I promised myself that I’d never come back here. Now look at me, right back where I started.” Sirius paced back and forth, looking despondent, “I just wanted to-- no, I _needed_ to get out of here. Just for a little while. And I can’t even do that without having you jumping down my throat.”

“I didn’t mean to jump down your throat,” said Remus, struggling to keep his voice level. “But you need to think about this sensibly - consider Harry for a moment. What it would do to him if anything were to happen to you.”

“Don’t guilt-trip me, Remus,” warned Sirius.

“I’m not trying to guilt-trip you, Sirius, I’m trying to make you see reason!” he pleaded. “If you are caught - whether it be by Death Eaters or Dementors or the Aurors, it doesn’t matter - there’s no going back to Azkaban this time, they will kill you!”

Sirius drew his wand and brandished it wildly around, “Let’s see them try it with me, then! At least it would liven things up around here, eh? Better than sitting here losing my mind from boredom!”

“Sirius--” Remus began, raising his hand cautiously, but Sirius didn’t seem to hear him.

“Look at this place,” he looked around his bedroom, shaking his head in disgust. “Putting up posters and playing Muggle music doesn’t hide the fact that this place is a fucking Death Eater’s shrine. Everything in this house is a constant reminder of why I left in the first place, of everything I hate. Do you hear that, Mother?” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. “I fucking hate this place!”

He slashed his wand through the air and all of the posters that had adorned the bedroom for the previous twenty years were torn from the walls along with chunks of wallpaper, shredding themselves to pieces in mid-air before falling to the ground. Sirius swiped his wand through the air again and this time the pillows and bedding exploded, sending plumes of duck feathers across the room. Remus watched silently as Sirius tore apart his bedroom, upturning furniture and smashing everything that he touched into pieces. Sirius screamed as he ripped the curtains down from their railings, sending a gaggle of terrified doxy’s fleeing in all directions. He kicked the record player and music spluttered into life, a rapid drumbeat blaring out of the speakers as the guitars began to play. But the music stopped as abruptly as it had begun as Sirius snatched the LP out of the player and hurled it in frustration. It shattered against the wall, sending shards of plastic in all directions.

“Fuck this! Fuck this room and fuck this fucking house!” he screamed. The only sound now was Sirius’ ragged pants as he stood there amongst the wreckage of his bedroom.

“Are you quite done?” asked Remus pointedly.

“Piss off, Moony,” Sirius replied gruffly, sinking onto the edge of his bed, his back to Remus. He listened as Remus left the room and stomped downstairs without another word, his footfalls growing fainter with each step. He buried his face in his hands, frustration and humiliation swelling up and washing over him in great waves. He couldn’t help but take Snape’s words to heart, regardless of what Remus said - he was useless. Everyone was putting their lives at risk - even Harry - while he was forced to sit in this house, unable to contribute anything. It wouldn’t make a damned bit of difference if he wasn’t even there; he doubted anyone would take notice if he wasn’t.

_Knock knock._

Sirius was snapped out of his spiral of morose thoughts by a gentle rap on the bedroom door. He turned and to his surprise he saw a sheepish-looking Tonks lingering in the doorway.

“You alright, mate?” she asked carefully, stepping into the room. Sirius grunted in response and turned away from her again.

“That good, eh?” she joked. Her feet crunched as she stepped on the broken pieces of furniture strewn across the bedroom floor. She raised an eyebrow as she surveyed the devastation around her, “Redecorating, Sirius?”

Sirius snorted, “Yeah, sure...I suppose you heard everything?”

“I got the gist of it, yeah,” she admitted. “You know he’s only upset because he cares about you.”

“I know that,” he snapped. “I don’t need you getting on my case as well, Tonks. I know how stupid you all think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” she argued, sitting next to him. “I get it. It must drive you to distraction being stuck in here.”

“Is it that obvious?” he drawled. Tonks rolled her eyes.

“I’m not going to pretend to know how you’re feeling,” she began. “But I heard enough from my mum to get a good idea of what it was like for you and your brother growing up here. I’d take any opportunity get out of here, too.”

“Yeah, it certainly wasn’t like living with The Waltons,” he confirmed grimly. He glanced up at her then, “You never met Reg, did you?”

“I did, actually,” she smiled. “Just the once, at Uncle Alphard’s funeral. I was quite young at the time, but I remember him sitting with me and we read a couple Martin Miggs comics together.”

“Did he now?” laughed Sirius fondly. He liked the image conjured in his mind of Regulus sitting alongside an infantile Tonks, recounting their favourite adventures together, “We loved those comics growing up. He was obsessed with one issue where Martin goes to Atlantis; Reg always loved the water.”

A dull ache swelled in Sirius’ chest at the thought of his brother. He sighed and continued, “He had always dreamed of going on grand and dangerous adventures when we were growing up; that’s probably in part what had motivated him to join the Death Eaters in the first place. Well, he certainly got his fair share of danger, stupid boy.”

“What happened to him?” asked Tonks. Sirius shrugged.

“Honestly, I don’t know," he admitted. "The rumour at the time was that he got in over his head and tried to do a runner. Voldemort doesn’t take kindly to deserters; likes to make an example of them. I’d tried to warn him what he was getting into, but he was too headstrong to listen to me.”

Tonks smirked and gave Sirius a sly glance, “Hmm, sounds a lot like someone I know.”

Sirius smiled sadly, “Yeah, I suppose he took after me in that respect if nothing else. I’m glad you got to meet him, even if it was only the one time.”

“He seemed like a good man,” she replied softly.

Sirius nodded, “We disagreed on most things, but Reg had a good heart. He was just...impressionable. I wish he’d trusted me enough to come to me when he got into trouble. Things might have turned out a lot different.”

Tonks rested a hand gently on Sirius’ back, “Sounds to me like you did the best that you could under the circumstances.”

“I could have tried harder,” he argued firmly.

“Maybe. But how does the old saying go,” she began thoughtfully. “‘Hindsight is a wonderful thing; it’s always very easy to second guess after the fact’. You can’t beat yourself up over something that you can’t change, mate. And if Regulus was half as stubborn as you are, I doubt you could have changed his mind, however persuasive you might have been.”

Sirius snorted, “When did you get to be so wise?”

“Dunno,” she shrugged flashing him a brilliant smile. “Usually I just get told I’m being a smart-arse.”

“You are a smart-arse,” he smirked. She punched him lightly on the arm and his smile broadened. He added missing being there to see Tonks growing up amongst his ever-mounting pile of regrets. Tonks glanced around the wrecked room and rose to her feet.

“You want a hand fixing this mess?” she asked pulling out her wand.

“Please,” he nodded, taking his own out of his pocket. They spent the next few minutes silently repairing the room. Like a Time-Turner everything transformed back to its original state; goosefeathers flew back into their pillows, furniture reassembled and the posters un-shredded and pinned themselves back onto the walls. Tonks put her hands on her hips and nodded approvingly at their progress, “This looks better than it did before!”

“Probably because I vanished all of the dirty clothes that I had left on the floor,” joked Sirius. Even the shattered vinyl mended itself and flew back into the record player where it began to play music. Tonks’ eyes widened in recognition at the [ song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mVG5qmY7fRo).

“Sweet!” she cried clapping her hands together. “I love The Ramones!”

Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise, “You know The Ramones?”

“Hell yes!” she cried excitedly, grabbing Sirius’ hand and spinning them both around in a circle. “As far as I was concerned when I was growing up, Joey Ramone was a sex god. I had a poster of him hanging over my bed at Hogwarts.”

Tonks spun a reluctant Sirius around in a pirouette. She gave him an expectant look, “Come on Sirius, dance with me!”

Sirius balked at her, “I’m too old to dance.”

“Don’t talk rubbish!” she laughed. “Nobody’s too old to dance! Come on, I promise it’ll make you feel better. It doesn’t matter if you’re a good dancer or not, I’ve got two left feet…”

Sirius couldn’t help the wide grin spreading across his face as he watched Tonks dance jerkily across the room, almost tripping over her own feet a couple of times in the process, but she looked like she was enjoying herself too much to care. It had been a long time since he had last danced. Sirius grabbed Tonks’ hand and pulled her towards the bed where they both proceeded to jump and sing the lyrics at the top of their lungs, “I remember lying awake at night and thinking just of you! But things don’t last forever and somehow baby, they never really do!”

Tonks gave her head a light shake and suddenly her short, bubblegum pink hair transformed into a shaggy black mane not dissimilar from Joey Ramones. Sirius’ smile fell and he stared as Tonks twisted and danced across the bed, singing her heart out along to the music waving her long, black hair from side to side. In a horrible flash, Sirius was back in his bedroom, only sixteen years of age again doing much the same thing with his brother. Sirius’ momentary elation gave way to a wave of nausea.

“Tonks, stop,” he pleaded. He wasn’t sure why it upset him so much, all he knew was he wanted her to stop dancing. But she wasn’t listening, she just kept singing and jumping about, oblivious to Sirius’ growing anguish. Sirius grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and pulled her off of the bed.

“I said cut it out!” he snapped. Tonks’ smile faltered, a look of hurt and confusion spreading across her face.

“Alright, sorry,” she replied meekly. “I was only trying to cheer you up.”

“Well don’t,” he bit back. “I want to be miserable, Tonks. Just leave me in peace, alright?”

“Okay,” she replied quietly, slinking out of the bedroom. “Sorry.”

Sirius slammed the bedroom door shut and collapsed on his bed in a heap. He knew Tonks was only trying to help, that she had no idea what she did to have upset him so much, but Sirius didn’t even know how to put into words how he was feeling - he had never been very good with words. How could he explain that she had reminded him so much of his brother in that moment that it made him want to cry? It was easier just to kick her out of his room than to ponder on his own feelings too deeply.

His eyes drifted towards the only two photographs he kept by his bedside. The one affixed to the wall was of himself and the other Marauders during their school days - before everything had gone to shit. James, Peter, Remus and a sixteen year-old version of himself waved enthusiastically at him, blissfully unaware that within a couple of years of the photo being taken, all of their lives would be blown apart.

His eyes wandered down to the silver framed photo on his bedside table, the only one he had of himself and Regulus. When he had returned home last year, he had looked through all the old family photo albums for other pictures of himself and his brother, but found none. Evidently his mother had destroyed them along with blasting his name off of the family tapestry. But he had found this one hidden in Regulus’ room - under the floorboards, funnily enough. It had made him smile knowing his brother had taken to hiding things the same way he did. It was a formal-looking photograph, both of them were wearing their best dress robes, looking forlorn. He couldn’t have been any older than fourteen when the picture was taken - his hair was still short - but he couldn’t remember exactly when or what the occasion had been. In the photograph Sirius leaned to his brother and whispered something in his ear. The corner of Regulus’ mouth tugged, trying and failing to suppress a smile and he nodded. Sirius wondered what he’d said to make his brother smile - probably something rude - but again, it had been so long that he couldn’t remember what it was now.

Sirius felt the void growing inside of him; how was he supposed to be any help to Harry in this state? Harry had come to him with worries too great for any fifteen year old to be burdened with. Sirius had tried to abate his fears, give words of consolation and encouragement, but he didn’t feel his words had put his godson’s mind at ease about anything. He was the worst person to ask for advice - his own brother hadn’t trusted him enough to confide in him. Maybe Regulus was right not to trust him - James had trusted him with his life and it had gotten him killed. Remus had trusted him and Sirius had betrayed him. Sirius had trusted Peter, and Peter had betrayed them all.

Sirius curled up in the foetal position and closed his eyes, letting the morose thoughts and feelings whirlpool inside of him. He must have dozed off like that because when he stirred later the room was dark. He shifted and paused as he felt something hard pressed against his back, then relaxed as he heard Remus’ deep, steady breaths. He must have come in at some point and had fallen asleep holding Sirius. The helplessness that had gripped him earlier lessened a little and he shuffled backwards to be closer to Remus. Remus stirred and placed a sleepy kiss on the back of Sirius’ neck.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

“I’m fine,” lied Sirius.


	8. Blue

_December 1995_

It was Christmas Day and a party was in full swing in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Now that Arthur Weasley was out of the woods, his family had relaxed somewhat and was able to enjoy the festivities that Sirius had organised in an effort to lift their spirits. The mood was still rather sedate in Arthur’s absence, but at least they were able to sit down and enjoy their Christmas meal knowing that he was comfortable and safe at St. Mungo’s.

The twins had taken it upon themselves to entertain everyone sitting around the kitchen table by demonstrating the latest range of indoor festive fireworks they claimed to have purchased from Zonko’s Joke Shop. Although Sirius suspected otherwise, he kept this to himself. Ginny, Ron and Hermione whooped and clapped as glittering Christmas trees exploded into life, bathing the gloomy kitchen in bright green light. Red and silver Santa Clauses cartwheeled in mid-air before erupting into a dazzling display of colour before enchanted snow settled in their hair and on the cold, flagstone floor. Remus smiled and watched proceedings in silence, giving Sirius’ hand a tight squeeze as he enjoyed the show. Even Molly didn’t protest. Sirius supposed that she was glad of the noise and chaos if only to distract her from thinking of her husband in hospital.

Sirius couldn’t help but enjoy himself, too. It gave him a vicious pleasure knowing how much it would irk his parents to see what their beloved house had become; headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, a haven for mudbloods and blood traitors alike, and a home for their detestable son and the man he loved. There had never been so much laughter and love in his familial home than there was now. Despite the circumstances, it was the best Christmas that Sirius had had in many years, maybe ever. The only person who didn’t seem to be enjoying themselves was Harry.

Sirius watched his godson closely with mounting concern. After they had returned from visiting Arthur at the hospital this morning, Harry had immediately locked himself in his room all day, even ignoring Molly’s summons for lunch. He had only been coaxed down to join the Christmas feast by Sirius on the promise that he could go back to his room immediately after the meal had concluded. Even then, he hadn’t spoken to anyone during the meal, instead staring at a plateful of food he barely touched.

Molly ducked as a reindeer, shimmering silver with a bright red nose, soared passed her head and galloped across the kitchen table.

“Watch it!” she warned the twins sharply, but Fred just laughed.

“They’re perfectly safe, Mum!” he assured her. “One hundred percent fireproof!”

Just as the words left his mouth, the reindeer dived into the large Christmas tree in the corner room and exploded into flames, setting the tree alight. Molly screamed.

“Okay, maybe about eighty percent fireproof,” George relented, pulling his wand out of his pocket and dashing forward to put out the fire. While everyone tried to extinguish the flames, Harry took advantage of the commotion and attempted to slip unseen from the kitchen. Sirius watched him leave before glancing at Remus.

“Go check on Harry,” said Remus quietly. “I’ll keep everyone else entertained in your absence.”

Sirius gave Remus a quick kiss and slipped out of the room unnoticed. Climbing the stairs he instinctively placed another silencing charm on his mother’s portrait, just for good measure in case the previous one had begun to wear off. Continuing his ascent, Sirius paused on the second floor landing, knowing where Harry would have wandered off to. Pushing open the bedroom door to where Buckbeak now resided, he found Harry sitting in the far corner of the room, stroking the hippogriff’s head as it dozed.

“Not in the mood for fireworks?” he asked closing the door behind him. Harry shrugged and said nothing.

“Bah, humbug,” joked Sirius. Harry gave a weak smile but his eyes remained distant and red as though he had been crying. Sirius stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to say. He ought to impart his wisdom to his godson, be able to put his mind at ease. But he was woefully inexperienced at dealing with broody teenagers, particularly those with real concerns like the ones Harry had to deal with.

He had never been particularly good at sharing his feelings; that was always Remus’ area of expertise. But he didn’t want to delegate his godson to his beau simply because it was difficult. Harry was after all, his responsibility. Resolving himself to at least try, he knelt in front of Harry.

“Look, I know you’re having a rough time of it at the moment…” began Sirius. Harry drew him an incredulous look and he relented, “Okay, that’s a bit of an understatement. But you have to realise, what happened to Arthur wasn’t your fault. If anything, you saved his life.”

“I told you what I saw,” said Harry glumly. “I told you what I felt. It was like I was the snake; seeing through its eyes. I might have raised the alarm, but it wouldn’t have happened in the first place if I hadn’t--”

“That’s not true,” Sirius cut in, trying to catch Harry’s eye but he dipped his head and avoided Sirius’ gaze. “You didn’t hurt Arthur; Voldemort did. This isn’t your fault.”

“It is my fault,” Harry argued, his face screwed up in disgust. “I heard what Mad-Eye said about Voldemort being able to possess me; it makes me a danger to everyone here. The only reason I haven’t left is because Dumbledore told me to stay put, but I don’t even know why I bother listening to him.”

“Mad-Eye doesn’t know what he’s on about,” argued Sirius, a flare of anger rising up in him. How could Moody be stupid enough to say something like that within earshot of Harry?

“It’s true, though,” said Harry, sounding increasingly despondent. He stared at his own hands as though they were filthy. “You don’t know what it’s like - to not be sure if you’re in control of your own mind and body. To be able to feel what he feels...it makes me feel contaminated. Dirty. I don’t deserve to be in the company of others in case they get infected by me, too.”

Sirius sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Harry.

“You sound a lot like Moony when you say things like that,” he pointed out. Harry gave him a sharp look.

“That’s different,” he argued. “Lupin can’t help being a werewolf. And he’s not dangerous if he takes the Wolfsbane potion.”

“Are you purposefully allowing Voldemort to enter your mind or take control of your body?” asked Sirius.

“Of course not!” Harry cried. Buckbeak stirred from his slumber and ruffled his feathers irritably. Harry lowered his voice and whispered, “Of course I wouldn’t let him do that.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Sirius reassured him quietly. “Whatever this...connection with Voldemort is - you’re not to blame.” Harry rolled his eyes but Sirius persisted. “I know I’ve said it before, but you must believe me - believe in yourself - that it isn’t your fault. You aren’t going crazy and you aren’t becoming bad. Do you think if you were anything like him, you’d be feeling guilty right now?”

Harry looked uncertain, “No, I suppose not.”

Sirius grabbed Harry’s shoulder and said fiercely, “You are not dirty or contaminated, Harry. You are kind and brave and you are surrounded by people who love you. You have everything and he has nothing and no-one. You and he are nothing alike. Nothing.”

Harry’s eyes welled with tears. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and just nodded. Sirius sighed and glanced at Buckbeak. Having a heartfelt conversation with his godson in a room littered with dead ferrets and a sleeping hippogriff wasn’t ideal. Jumping to his feet he held out his hand to Harry, “Come on, let’s chat somewhere else. He gets awful grumpy if you interrupt his naptime.”

Reluctantly, Harry took Sirius’ hand. He easily pulled his godson to his feet and they walked silently out of the room, careful not to bang the door shut as they exited. Sirius inclined his head towards the stairs and Harry followed, shoulders hunched and head bowed.

When they reached the top floor landing, Sirius opened his bedroom door and ushered Harry inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said closing the door behind him and beelining for the tobacco tray in the corner of the room before pausing. He was desperate for a cigarette but he thought better of it. Never mind the fact that Sirius was already a heavy smoker himself by the time he was Harry’s age, he was supposed to be setting an example to his godson; watching him smoking wasn’t a good way to go about doing that.

Instead he side-stepped towards the shelf where his vinyls were kept, “So, what kind of music do you like?”

“What?” asked Harry distractedly, lingering awkwardly by the door.

“What bands do you listen to?” Sirius asked. Harry thought for a moment before saying, “I like Oasis. And The Verve.”

“The Verve?” asked Sirius, surprised. He flashed Harry a toothy grin, “You’re in luck. Moony’s a big fan.”

He slipped the vinyl off of the shelf and placed it in the record player. After a few moments, a slow-paced rock and roll beat burst into life from the old speakers, the [ music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=80zV-0cQc4U) sounding tinny and scratched. The diminished sound quality didn’t surprise Sirius; the record player was old and worn, as were most of the records. _Just like me,_ he thought ruefully.

“Do you not like them?” asked Harry, stepping further into the room. Sirius shrugged.

“They’re alright, but I prefer the classics,” he said. “Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Bowie…”

Harry nodded approvingly. He wandered over to the shelf with the vinyls and peered closely at them. “I didn’t think they sold LP’s anymore.”

“They still do from time to time,” said Sirius, sitting on the edge of his bed. “They’re not as popular as when I was young, everyone buys CD’s nowadays. I don’t have a CD player, so I just need to make do with what I have.”

“I’ve got a portable radio in my room at the Dursley’s,” said Harry, taking a seat next to Sirius. “Just one of Dudley’s old ones. He threw it away after my Aunt and Uncle bought him a new sound system, but I managed to rescue it from the bin.”

“Oh,” said Sirius quietly. “That’s good.”

Another flare of anger and shame rose inside of him; angry at the way the Dursley’s mistreated his godson, angry and ashamed of himself for being in no position to prevent it. He had watched Harry closely over the holidays - of course he was the spitting image of James, but a lot of his mannerisms reminded him of Regulus; both were always very careful and considered in their movements, always on edge and never able to completely be at ease. Sirius considered these the hallmarks of an upbringing not disimilar from his own - divergent in many ways, but both equally unhappy - and it made him all the more angry that he hadn’t been there to prevent that.

Harry hadn’t spoken much about his time at the Dursley’s. Of course Sirius was curious about his upbringing, but knew better than to push him on the matter. Still, it might do Harry some good to talk about it, if he wanted to.

“You probably gathered I didn’t have a particularly happy childhood here,” Sirius began tentatively. Harry glanced up at him inquiringly.

“Of course, my parents fed and clothed me, kept a roof over my head. But there’s more to caring for a child than providing the basics,” he explained. “Parents and guardians are supposed to love their children; show them a modicum of kindness every now and then. Make them feel wanted and loved.”

It surprised Sirius how difficult it was to say the words aloud, probably to the only other person in the world who could really understand what he meant. But he felt like it was something that Harry sorely needed to hear.

“Growing up, I was ashamed at how my parents treated my brother and I - I didn’t confide in your father about what was happening here for a long time. It was like a dirty little secret. But keeping secrets like that locked up inside of you...it eats away at you and you convince yourself that you’re the one to blame for being in a situation that’s completely outwith your control. Do you understand what I mean, Harry?”

Harry’s cheeks burned red and he nodded. Yes, he knew all too well what Sirius meant.

“You know if you ever want to talk about anything, you can trust me,” he offered. “Or talk to Remus or anyone else that you trust and feel comfortable speaking with - whether it be about Voldemort or the Dursleys or girls,” Harry laughed and his cheeks turned an even deeper shade of crimson. Sirius smiled - so girls were definitely an important topic of discussion. He continued, “Nothing is off-limits. Nothing you say will be ridiculed. I won’t always have the answers, but I’ll always be here to listen if you need me.”

He paused and looked searchingly into Harry’s eyes, waiting patiently for him to respond. Harry lowered his gaze, looking uncertain. Sirius felt a pang of sadness that Harry didn’t trust him enough to confide in him - not yet, anyway - but he understood why. He knew all-too-well how difficult it was to break a lifetime habit of keeping your thoughts and feelings under lock and key. It was difficult to allow yourself to be vulnerable with another person when experience told you that doing so would only leave you open to more pain.

Sirius squeezed Harry’s shoulder reassuringly and made to get to his feet when Harry spoke suddenly.

“I used to dream that some distant relative would come and take me away from the Dursleys,” he blurted out. “But they never did.”

Sirius paused then slowly sat back down, “I used to dream about leaving this place, too.”

“No such luck?” asked Harry with a weak laugh.

“Unfortunately not,” sighed Sirius. “Most of my relatives were as batshit-crazy as my parents, so my options were fairly limited.”

“I know what you mean,” muttered Harry.

“It’s a shame we have so much in common,” Sirius noted drily. Harry snorted.

“It’s not something I talk about very often,” said Harry. “The Dursleys, I mean. I haven’t really had anyone else to talk to about it before. Not anyone that would understand.”

Sirius nodded slowly, “It’s exceptionally lonely living in an unhappy home; I didn’t have anyone to turn to for a long time. I found listening to music to be an excellent distraction from my homelife, but it was always a temporary escape; it’s no substitute to having another person to confide in. Everything seems worse when you face it alone. You’re not alone, Harry. I know it feels like you are but no matter what happens, you’ll always have me by your side.”

Harry and Sirius sat long into the night talking. They covered the more serious topics first like the Dursley’s and their home lives growing up. There were a lot of things that Sirius didn’t know about that Harry confided in him - the events that had occured in his first and second year at Hogwarts, the nightmares he had about Cedric and the graveyard, and of course, Voldemort. It was a subject that couldn’t be avoided, although Sirius had to be careful how much he divulged to Harry. Personally he had thought it was best just to tell his godson about the Prophecy, but Dumbledore had made him swear to keep that particular piece of information to himself. But after talking to Harry, realising everything else that he had to worry about, for once Sirius agreed with the old Headmaster - it would do little good to add to Harry’s woes. Not now. Not when there was nothing they could do to change it. They would tell him about the prophecy when the time was right.

They covered lighter topics as well; high school crushes and heartbreaks, Quidditch and (to Sirius’ interest and delight) how Harry had taken it upon himself to teach other students Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons right under the nose of Umbridge and the Ministry. His heart swelled with pride at this blatant disregard for the rules, and told a pleased Harry just how proud his father would have been of him. Harry revelled in hearing about the many escapades his father and the other Marauders got up to during their school days, Sirius enjoying recounting the tales as much as Harry did listening to them.

As the light of a new dawn crawled along the dark ceiling, Sirius finally suggested that Harry get some sleep. Harry yawned and protested that he wasn’t tired, with a little persuasionhe agreed to go to bed, at least for a couple of hours. Before Harry departed he turned towards Sirius, looking exhausted but more at ease than he had been in days.

“It’s been hard, not being able to talk to you,” Harry admitted in a small voice. “I really enjoyed this.”

Sirius gave him a sympathetic smile, “It’s been hard for me, too. I’ve missed your letters. But I promise, we’ll work something out. You won’t have to deal with things on your own any longer.”

Harry nodded and finally he left, closing the door quietly behind him. Sirius turned and collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted. A few moments later the bedroom door creaked open again and he looked up sharply, expecting to see Harry, but flopped his head back against the mattress when he saw Remus pop his head through the door.

“I just heard Harry heading to bed,” he noted, closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, it’s been a long night,” he sighed rubbing his tired face. “I take that you got the fire under control?”

“You’d probably have noticed if the house burnt to the ground if we hadn’t,” quipped Remus lying down next to Sirius. “You missed Molly reading Fred and George the riot act. It was a rather nostalgic moment; it reminded me of all the times McGonagall used to lose the rag with us.”

Sirius chuckled, “Remember the time she caught us fucking about in one of the broom cupboards?”

Remus laughed and covered his eyes, “Oh my god, I’ll never forget the look on her face. I honestly thought she was going to drop dead from shock.”

“I don’t even think she gave us detention for that,” said Sirius thoughtfully.

“Probably forgot to dish it out,” suggested Remus. “Or maybe she didn’t want to write it up in a report - ‘students caught fornicating on school premises’.”

Sirius snorted, smiling fondly at the memory.

“So I take your talk with Harry went well?” asked Remus.

“I think so,” said Sirius hopefully. “We talked through a lot of things. I think I’ve put his mind at ease a little.”

“That’s good,” said Remus, absent-mindedly teasing Sirius’ hair through his fingers. “It’s difficult enough being that age without everything else he needs to contend with. This whole situation with Arthur has really rattled him.”

“I know,” Sirius agreed glumly. “I’m worried about when he goes back to school. He’s only just started to open up about things, but when he heads back after the holidays I’ll be cut off from him again. I don’t know what I’m going to do about it, but I can’t leave him to deal with this on his own, not any longer.”

Remus frowned, deep in thought. After a few moments silence he asked, “What about those mirrors you had in school? The ones we used to talk to each other during detentions.”

Sirius’ gasped, “Of course! Moony, you are a genius.”

“I know,” smirked Remus. Sirius rolled backwards off of the bed and scrambled for the loose floorboard, prying it free and tossing it carelessly to the side before plunging his arm into the gap. Remus watched Sirius with interest.

“Why do you still keep things under the floorboards?” he asked curiously.

“Force of habit,” he shrugged, groping blindly for the small parcel wrapped in linen. Finally, his fingers clasped around the package he had been looking for. Pulling it triumphantly out of the floor he joined Remus back on the bed, unwrapped it and handed him one of the mirrors.

Holding his own mirror up to his face he said, “Remus Lupin,” and after a moment Sirius’ reflection dissolved and Remus’ appeared in its place. Sirius’ face broke out into a wide grin.

“Perfect,” he declared.

“You better be careful Molly doesn’t catch you giving him that,” warned Remus. “Or Moody for that matter, he’d sooner smash it than confiscate it.”

“Good point,” muttered Sirius, wrapping the mirrors back up. “I’ll give it to him right before he leaves for the train. They’ll have already checked his trunk by then, that way they won’t find it.”

“Very cunning,” said Remus appraisingly. Sirius slipped the parcel into his robe pocket and let out a long sigh of relief. Communicating by mirror was no substitute for speaking to Harry in person, but it was certainly better than not being able to talk to him at all. At least this way if Harry needed him, he could be there.


	9. Cosmic Dancer

_June 1996_

 

Sirius sat on the edge of his bed, turning the two-way mirror in his hand over and over again, deep in thought. Six months had passed since he’d given Harry the second of the pair but Harry had chosen not to use it. Not once. Sirius couldn’t help feeling hurt by this, but part of him couldn’t blame Harry for not wanting to get in touch, either. He had hardly lived up to fulfilling his godfatherly duties in the last fifteen years; chatting to him through a mirror was a poor substitute for what Harry really needed. His godson was better placing his trust in others, in someone who could actually be there for him when he needed them.

“Nothing again today?” asked Remus gently. Sirius glanced up as Remus entered the room, still dressed in his travel cloak. Sirius shrugged.

“No,” he replied quietly, carefully placing the mirror on the bedside table. “I’m sure he’ll call me if he really needs me.”

“I’m sure he will,” Remus assured him, shrugging out of his cloak and tossing it onto the bed. “He reminds me a lot of you at that age - moody and prone to secrecy.”

Sirius grunted, “Not much has changed in the last twenty years.”

“And I wouldn’t have you any other way,” smiled Remus fondly, sitting next to him. “If Harry is anything like you, then he will come to you in his own time, when he’s ready to talk.”

“I suppose,” he mumbled, not entirely convinced of Remus’ advice but appreciating his words of comfort nonetheless. “How’d the mission go?”

“Really well, actually,” said Remus, unlacing his brogues and tossing them onto the floor. “So well in fact that I was able to come home early. I had a look about the house; seems like we’re the only ones here at the moment. I didn’t even have the displeasure of bumping into Kreacher.”

“You shouldn’t,” said Sirius grimly. “I sent him up to the attic as punishment. Little bastard injured Buckbeak today.”

“He didn’t,” gasped Remus in disbelief, pulling off his tie and discarding it onto a nearby chair.

“He did,” Sirius confirmed gravely. “For no other reason than sheer spitefulness. I knew he hated me, but now he’s resorted to injuring Buckbeak just to get a rise out of me. I don’t know how much more of him I can put up with.”

Remus reached out and tucked a stray hair behind Sirius’ ear, “Sounds like you’ve had a rough day.”

“No more than usual,” said Sirius with a wry smile. Remus suddenly rose to his feet.

“Then I shall endeavour to improve your day as much as possible,” he declared, running a finger along the large collection of vinyls on the nearby shelf.  He pulled out a vinyl, slid it out of its sleeve and slipped it into the LP player. After a few moments an upbeat electric guitar began to [ play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koFM5paYEmM)... 

 

_“Beneath the bebop moon_

_I want to croon with you_

_Beneath the Mambo Sun_

_I got to be the one with you…"_

 

Sirius grinned, “T-Rex, Moony? You know me so well.”

Remus turned to face Sirius and smiled, “I know quite a few things about you…” he strode forward and pushed Sirius back onto the bed before straddling his hips. Sirius’ grin broadened; he loved when a horny and confident Remus took control.

“Oh?” he asked innocently, already unbuttoning Remus’ shirt and trousers. “And what do you _think_ you know about me?”

“Let’s see…” said Remus thoughtfully, peeling his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. “I know that even though you’d never admit it, you actually really like Celestina Warbeck’s music.”

Sirius opened his mouth to protest but Remus leaned over and stole a kiss before he had the chance to utter a word. He kissed him back, running a hand through Remus’ sandy, silver-streaked hair. Remus broke the kiss and when he spoke again, his voice was low and husky, “I also know that that every time I do that twisty move with my tongue, it makes your toes curl.”

Sirius wasn’t going to argue with that. Remus kissed him again, unfastening the buttons on Sirius’ shirt as he continued, “I know that you are kind,” he pressed another kiss to his lips. “And funny,” and another. “And sexy…”

Whatever else Sirius was, he never found out. He wrapped his arms around Remus’ back and pulled him closer, kissing him hard. The day may not have started well, but things finally seemed to be looking up.

Remus kissed his way down Sirius’ jaw and bare chest, placing gentle kisses, working his way down his body before coming to a stop between Sirius’ legs. Pulling his trousers and boxers off entirely he tossed the clothes carelessly onto the floor, licking his lips hungrily at the sight of Sirius’ achingly hard cock. He flashed Sirius a devilish grin before he proceeded to lick a teasing stripe up the full length of Sirius’ shaft, closing his lips around the tip and giving it a light suck. Sirius clenched the bed sheets tightly, his head spinning at the heat of Remus’ mouth surrounding his cock.

“Fuck, Moony…” he laughed breathlessly. “You’re really good at that.”

Remus gave a low grumble of appreciation and sucked harder, rendering Sirius momentarily speechless. Instead he just threw his head back onto the bed and enjoyed the sensations, his toes curling and his back arching as Remus’ tongue swirled around the head.

Sirius was in heaven. Or as close to heaven as he could be under the circumstances. He looked down at Remus and his heart swelled with love and lust at the wondrous sight before him - the man he loved, the man who made his life worth living, made him whole…

“Remus,” whispered Sirius, giving his shoulder a gently squeeze. Remus paused and looked up at Sirius inquiringly. Sirius beckoned him, “Come here.”

Remus crawled up Remus’ body and kissed him, pressing their bodies flush together. Sirius broke their kiss and looked up into Remus’ dark amber eyes, brushing his cheek gently. Sirius would never understand how someone as perfect as Remus could choose someone like him, would willingly give themselves over to him the way Remus did. But Sirius knew better now than to squander what he had. He would protect it with his life. He would live every day for the rest of his life trying to make himself worthy of this man’s love.

“You know I love you, right?” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Remus’ expression softened and he pressed their foreheads together.

“I know you love me,” he replied. “I love you, too.”

A tidal wave of adoration swept over Sirius at those words and he kissed Remus again, allowing himself to be swept up in this perfect moment of bliss, forgetting for a short while about everything else happening beyond the walls of Grimmauld Place.

* * *

“So did it work?” asked Remus, an amused grin teasing the corners of his lips. He watched with interest as Sirius rolled and sealed another cigarette before popping it into his mouth.

“T-Rex and a shag?” he asked, lighting the cigarette with the tip of his wand. “You know it never fails to cheer me up, Moony.”

He took a long draw and exhaled great plumes of smoke through his nose. He watched as the wispy smoke trailed lazily into the air and disappeared before passing the cigarette to Remus. Remus gathered smoke into his mouth but didn’t exhale. Forming his mouth into a small ‘o’ shape, he puffed out small stream of smoke rings that floated above them before dispersing.

“Nice,” laughed Sirius, pressing a kiss into the crown of Remus’ head. Remus snuggled closer to Sirius, rubbing the stubble from his cheek onto Sirius’ chest.

“I think we should go on holiday,” said Remus suddenly. Sirius frowned.

“What are you on about?” he asked confused.

“We should go on holiday,” Remus repeated. “When the war is over. Once Voldemort’s gone and you’ve got your name cleared, we should get away for a bit.”

Sirius laughed, “That sounds like a smashing idea. I’ll take you to that tropical beach Buckbeak and I visited a couple years back.”

“I’d love to see that,” said Remus softly.  

“Buckbeak would have to come with us, of course,” said Sirius in a serious tone, although he couldn’t help the smirk stretching across his face.

“Of course,” nodded Remus in agreement. “And Harry, too. I don’t think he’s ever been on holiday before. Neither have I, for that matter…”

“Well then it’s settled,” said Sirius lightly. “I’ll sell this place - and if I can’t sell it I’ll just burn it to the ground - we’ll pack our bags and get the hell out of here. We can finally put all of this shit behind us.”

“Perfect. I’ll grab some holiday brochures next time I’m out on a mission for the Order,” joked Remus.

Sirius closed his eyes and smiled, enjoying the impossible daydream of leaving this all behind. Even if he knew it could never happen, it didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to think about.

Sirius’ eyes suddenly snapped open as he heard a commotion downstairs. Someone was shouting his name…

“Black,” cried a familiar voice. As the heavy footsteps hurried up the stairs the cries grew louder, “Black! Are you here?”

Sirius groaned. What the fuck did Snape want?

“I’m busy at the moment, Snape. I don’t have time to play hostess to you today,” he called.

The bedroom door crashed open and Severus Snape stormed in, looking unusually ruffled. Remus and Sirius sat bolt upright in bed, Remus scrambling to grab the quilt to cover himself. Sirius however, made no attempt to cover himself. He was too furious at the interruption to care how he looked.

“Are you deaf?” he shouted snatching his wand and pointing it at Snape. “I said piss off or I’ll hex your bollocks off--”

“Shut up!” bellowed Snape. “We don’t have time to argue. We have been deceived.”

An unpleasant chill shot up Sirius’ spine at the expression on Snape’s face. He didn’t look bemused or shocked or even angry. He looked afraid. Sirius lowered his wand.

“What’s happened?” he asked gruffly.

“Potter…” said Snape. “He is missing.”

* * *

“Sirius, stop,” Remus pleaded, grabbing at Sirius’ robes but he shook him off roughly and pushed him back.

“I can’t sit here while Harry is in danger!” he cried. “I won’t.”

“But if the Aurors catch you--” began Remus.

“I’ll worry about them later,” he argued, rushing down the stairs two and three steps at a time. “Protecting Harry is my only priority right now.”

Snape had been quick to fill in Sirius and Remus of the events that had transpired earlier that evening - Harry’s vision, the skirmish with Umbridge and their disappearance into the Forbidden Forest. Snape had volunteered to return to Hogwarts and search the Forest for Harry and Hermione, but Sirius knew exactly where Harry had gone. He knew because if he were in Harry’s shoes and his friend was in danger, he’d do the same thing.

“Tonks, Mad-Eye and Kingsley are already on there way to the Ministry,” Remus countered. “You should do as Dumbledore says and stay here.”

“I don’t give a shit what Dumbledore says. This isn’t up for debate, Remus,” said Sirius firmly, pulling open the door to Grimmauld Place. “I’m going to the Ministry. Now are you coming with me or not?”

“Of course I am,” he replied without hesitation. Sirius flashed him a brilliant smile and kissed him fiercely. Breaking the kiss he rested his forehead against Remus’ and brushed his cheek.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured him gently. “Come on, we’ve already wasted enough time.”

Grabbing Remus’ hand they marched out of Grimmauld Place together for the last time.

* * *

Early next morning, the door to Grimmauld Place creaked open and Remus shuffled inside, beaten, bruised and dazed.

Kingsley followed close behind, holding an inconsolable Tonks in his arms as she wept, repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” over and over again. She reached out to Remus but he shrugged her off, heading straight for the stairwell while everyone else made their way to the kitchen.

“Remus…” wailed Tonks. “I’m sorry--”

“Not now, Tonks,” said Kingsley gently, leading her into the kitchen and out of sight. “He needs some time alone.”

Tonks’ anguished cries stirred Walburga’s portrait from her slumber and she began to bellow at Remus, “Filthy half-breed! You dare befoul the house of my forefathers with your taint! You and that blood traitor son of mine are a stain upon this house that even fire and brimstone could not remove!”

Remus paused and turned to face the portrait of Sirius’ mother.

“What did you call him?” he breathed. It was the first time he had ever addressed the portrait.

“FILTH!” screeched Walburga, delighted to finally have an audience to pay her any attention. “He is no son of mine. Shame of my blood--”

“He’s dead,” Remus cut in quietly. Walburga’s screams fell silent and she stared at him for a few moments.

“What?” she asked sharply.

“Sirius is dead,” he repeated, his voice flat and emotionless. “That filthy, Muggle-loving, beast-fucking, shame-of-your-blood son of yours is dead.”

Walburga’s eyes narrowed and she hissed, “You lie.”

“I wish I was, but I’m not,” said Remus calmly. He surveyed Walburga’s reaction with interest, “I thought you’d be happier. Isn’t this what you always wanted? You told him enough times that you thought the House of Black was better off without him. Well, you finally got your wish.”

“He can’t be,” said Walburga weakly. “I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t care what you believe,” Remus shrugged. “I’m just glad that he’s finally free from you. Free from this house and everything in it.”

Remus took a step closer to Walburga’s portrait and whispered, “Sirius wanted to burn this house to the ground, you know. I don’t think he really would have, but I would. I’d set it alight and watch gladly as the fire swallowed up everything in here, you included. Once this war is over - once this place has outlived its usefulness - I’m going to burn this shrine of shit to the ground and I’ll be smiling as I do it. Call him filth again and I’ll save myself the trouble and do it right now.”

Walburga eyed Remus wearily but said nothing.

Satisfied, Remus turned away and walked up the three flights of stairs to Sirius’ room. For the first time since they had begun their occupation of Grimmauld Place, Walburga’s portrait remained silent for the entire night.

Remus stood in the doorway of Sirius’ room, taking a mental note of the contents within. Here were the worldly possessions of a man who was brave and funny and exceptional in every way - this was all that remained of him. Cigarettes. A couple of photographs. A mirror. Music…

The record was still spinning away, filling the shrine with soft [ music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMfjA4gyEcU). Remus stepped further into the room towards the record player.

 

_“Is it wrong to understand_

_The fear that dwells inside a man?_

_What's it like to be alone_

_I liken it to a balloon…”_

Sirius loved music. Had loved music. It was always a source of comfort and escapism when everything else in his life was going to shit, as it too often did. An image of Sirius sprawled on his bed, smiling and singing along to the music suddenly flashed through Remus’ mind. The pain that rose up inside of him at the mere memory of one moment in time was so sudden and sharp that it took his breath away.

Remus clamped his eyes shut as though that would remove the image from his head, but Sirius’ face kept creeping into the forefront of his mind. He tried to keep the tears and the grief and pain inside of him, tried to stop it from spilling over. Everything in Remus’ life had been about control. Control your emotions, control yourself, never give in to weakness. To give in to one’s emotions was abject failure...

The image of Sirius falling back into the veil flashed through Remus’ mind and he felt his heart fracture. He didn’t even realise he was screaming. He felt separated from his own body as he watched himself lift the record player above his head and hurl it across the room. The music died as the player exploded against the wall, sending shards of metal, plastic and wood in all directions. Remus howled and collapsed in a heap on the floor, pulling at his hair and scratching at himself until it hurt. Any other pain was better than the pain that consumed his heart.

He hugged himself tightly as he cried, finally allowing tears to fall freely now but it did nothing to abate the pain inside of him. He was angry at Sirius for breaking his promise and leaving him. He hated himself for being so selfish and thinking that way. His grief was so all-consuming that Remus hoped that he would die from it. That way, at least he’d be with Sirius.


	10. The Great Gig in the Sky

_ The White Room, Time Unknown _

 

Sirius lay face down, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone, although he was not perfectly sure that he was there himself...

Sirius’ eyes snapped open as he heard something in the distance. It sounded like a [ piano](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVBCE3gaNxc) playing softly, but it was so quiet, so far away that he couldn’t be sure if he were only imagining it. As he became aware of the music, he suddenly became aware of himself. He raised a hand to his face and felt flesh and bone. So, he was solid and he was here. Where was here, exactly?

Slowly, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust his vision to his unfamiliar surroundings. He appeared to be in a large, white room, surrounded by bright silvery mist. Inquisitively, he swiped his hand threw the mist but it felt neither hot nor cold. Curiously, it didn’t feel of anything, almost as though it wasn’t there at all. He couldn’t remember how he had come to be in this strange place, nor could he recall where he had been before his arrival. His head felt blurry; every time he tried to grasp at a memory it seemed to slip between his fingertips. Struggling to his feet he looked all around him for an exit, but saw none. Wherever he had come from, he should probably be heading back.

The sound of the piano playing got louder and Sirius frowned. Where the hell was that music coming from?

As soon as the thought had entered his mind, Sirius noticed that there was a small table to his right. He didn’t remember seeing it there before. He took a cautious step forward, unsure of what kind of magic this was. It didn’t feel like dark magic, although that didn’t put his mind any more at ease. As he approached, he saw that atop the small white table was a record player, the same one that he had in his bedroom back at Grimmauld Place.

_ That’s where I live _ , he remembered suddenly. Strange that he would forget something like that. Then again, everything about this place was strange. He stopped in front of the record player and watched as the vinyl turned slowly, a tinny voice emanated from the speakers:

_ “And I am not frightened of dying _

_ Any time will do, I don’t mind _

_ Why should I be frightened of dying? _

_ There’s no reason for it, you’ve gotta go sometime…” _

“You look well, brother.”

Sirius spun round. Regulus was walking towards him, alive and well and smiling at him. He paused just short of a stunned Sirius and his grin broadened, “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a while.”

“Reg,” said Sirius weakly. He looked his brother once over, his eyes wide with disbelief. His brother - his dead brother - now stood before him, young  and fresh-faced, dressed in green dress robes of the finest silk; he didn’t look like he’d aged a day since the last time Sirius had saw him. He reached out for his brother, convinced that he must be a spectre or a hallucination. But he pressed a finger into the soft fabric of Regulus’ robes and he felt as solid as Sirius did. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t be here. Yet here he stood.

“It’s really you,” he choked.

“It is,” Regulus confirmed softly. Sirius pulled him into a tight hug, one which Regulus gladly returned. He didn’t know how this was possible - he didn’t much care, either - Sirius just held his brother as tightly as he could, afraid that if he let go he would disappear.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Regulus assured him gently, patting his back. “Not this time.”

Sirius pulled back, gripping Regulus’ shoulder to steady himself. He had so many questions but all he could manage to say was, “How?”

“How indeed,” he sighed. “Even I’m not entirely sure on the how, but I think we both know why. Tell me, what do you remember before you arrived here?”

Sirius thought for a moment. He’d been wondering that himself.

“I remember falling,” he began slowly, memories flashing through his mind. “I...I was fighting Bellatrix. At the Ministry. She…”

Sirius’ eyes widened with alarm as he suddenly remembered, “Harry! Shit, Reg. Look, there’s no time to explain, but we need to get out of here. My godson Harry, he’s in danger. I’ve got to get back--”

“You can’t go back,” Regulus cut in, his smile evaporating and replaced with a serious expression. Sirius gaped at him.

“What do you mean I can’t go back?” he repeated incredulously. “I was just there a minute ago! We can’t be far from where they-- I…” Sirius faltered and a look of dawning horror crept along his face. He suddenly remembered the pain of Bellatrix’s curse as it had struck his chest. Instinctively he reached up and pressed his palm to where the spell had struck him, but there was no mark on him. A curious thought occurred to him then and he pulled up the sleeves of his robes to check...Sirius felt his heart sink. His tattoos were gone. He looked up at his brother, who hadn’t aged a day in seventeen years.  _ Oh god... _

“What is this place?” he asked hoarsely.

“I think you already know,” said Regulus solemnly. Sirius stared at him, afraid to say the words aloud.

“You’re dead,” he said flatly. Not a question, a statement-of-fact.

“Correct,” Regulus confirmed quietly. Sirius took an unsteady step back, a fresh wave of horror washing over him.

“So that means...I’m dead, too?” he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

Regulus nodded slowly, “Correct.”

“Shit,” he whispered. His worst fears confirmed, Sirius’ heart began to race and his legs felt like they’d turned to jelly. Did he even have a heart anymore to race, or legs for that matter? It was all too much for Sirius to take in.

“I need to sit down,” he croaked. No sooner had the words passed his lips than he found himself and Regulus sitting in two white oak chairs, facing each other

“Good idea,” said Regulus approvingly, crossing his legs and observing his brother with interest. “We have a lot to talk about. Might as well make ourselves comfortable."

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Sirius replied helplessly. He looked around the white room again and asked, “Is this heaven?”

“Not quite,” said Regulus. “I suppose it’s like a waiting room; I’ve been waiting here for you to arrive, to help you decide whether or not you’re ready to move on.”

Sirius looked at his brother in surprise, “You’ve been waiting for me?”

“Of course I have,” laughed Regulus. “We always promised that we’d look out for each other. You think I’d let a little thing like dying stop me?”

Sirius gave a weak laugh, “I suppose not. How long have you been here?”

“I’m not sure,” he shrugged. “I knew you’d be coming here soon, so I came back here to get you--”

“Came back from where?” Sirius cut in. Regulus gave him a rueful smile.

“I think you’re better just seeing that for yourself,” he replied evasively. “But I promise you Sirius, it’s quite a sight to behold.”

Sirius sank back into his chair, still struggling to come to terms with his current predicament, trying and failing to figure a way out of it, but he already knew there was no talking his way out of this one.

“I can’t go back,” he said quietly, more to himself than his brother.

“I’m sorry, Sirius,” said Regulus quietly. Sirius shrugged.

“I always knew in the back of my mind I’d never see old age,” he mused. “I was sure to die young. I just didn’t think it would be right now.”

“We never do though, do we?” asked Regulus. "Death is the only certainty in life, but it never fails to surprise us when it comes for us."

“I suppose not,” he muttered. He looked curiously at Regulus, “So...you came here too when you died? And someone was waiting for you?”

Regulus nodded, “Uncle Alphard was already here when I arrived. Although my room looked quite different from yours.”

“Really?” asked Sirius interestedly. “What did it look like?”

Regulus laughed, “You’ll make fun of me if I tell you.”

“I won’t,” he promised, then added. “Well, I’ll try not to.”

“Okay,” Regulus sighed in mock-exacerbation. “You remember my favourite issue of Martin Miggs?”

Sirius frowned, “The one where he goes to Atlantis?”

Regulus shrugged. Sirius snorted, “You’re joking.”

“I’m not!” argued Regulus, smiling more broadly. “It was all white marble ruins, pillars and statues, just like I always imagined it. I think that was the point, really - my mind had created a space that felt safe and welcoming for me. I suppose I never really had anywhere I really felt like that in real life, so I had to tap into my overactive imagination.”

Sirius looked around the largely empty white room they currently sat in, “Then what the hell is this all about? If it was going to be a safe space you’d think I’d imagine Hogwarts.”

“I think it makes perfect sense,” mused Regulus. “Music always served as a perfect escape from reality for you.”

“Very true,” he agreed quietly, glancing at the record player still spinning away.

“What is it that we’re listening to, anyway?” asked Regulus following his eyeline. “Is it Rush?”

Sirius drew his brother a sharp look, “It’s Pink Floyd, you philistine. Bloody Rush…”

Regulus laughed and Sirius smiled. It had been a long time since he had last seen his brother laugh. In fact, he looked much happier now that he ever did when he was alive. Sirius shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew he probably shouldn’t ask his next question, but he couldn’t help himself.

“How...how did you die?” he asked. “When did it happen?”

Regulus sighed and looked forlorn, “Not too long after we last met, actually. The how was...unpleasant.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sirius mournfully. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“You were always there for me, Sirius,” Regulus assured him. “All my life you tried to protect me. I know now it was because you loved me, but I was an angry young man - impressionable, misguided - I thought you believed me too weak to take care of myself, so I became resentful of you. That lead me to making some very foolish decisions. I realised too late the truth of your words - about Voldemort and what he was doing - but by then I was in too deep, and too ashamed to ask you for help. I still wanted to prove to you that I was strong, like you always were, and in the end it got me killed. You did everything you could to save me from myself, but I was too stubborn to accept your offer of help. I was the one who pushed you away, Sirius; I assure you, what happened to me...the fault is entirely my own.”

"And Voldemort's," Sirius pointed out. Regulus smirked.

"Yeah, I'm happy to apportion some of the blame to him, too," he relented.

“That doesn’t do much to put my mind at ease,” grumbled Sirius, staring at his feet. “I tried so hard to protect you and you still died. I tried to protect James and Lily and I only got them killed. I tried to protect Harry…” Merlin, Sirius had been so caught up in his own situation that he had almost forgotten that the fight was still raging on when he’d arrived here. He looked up at Regulus, wide-eyed with worry, “What about Harry and Remus? Do you know if they’re alright?”

“They’re fine,” Regulus assured him. “Bloodied and bruised, but they’ll both live to fight another day.”

Sirius bowed his head. It was a small comfort knowing that at least they had lived.

“No matter how hard I tried, everyone I loved died or got hurt because of me,” he whispered. “You, Harry, Remus, James...Mother was right; I was tainted. My love did more harm than good.”

“That’s not true, Sirius,” Regulus argued firmly. “You gave Harry and Remus your love - you gave them a family and a home, you gave them hope and comfort. Even now as they grieve for you, they still feel that love. A tainted person couldn’t do that.”

“Well my love isn’t much use them now, is it?” he spat.

“It will be,” said Regulus. “In the end, love is what will save us all in this fight.”

Sirius didn’t entirely believe what his brother was saying, but he was no longer in a position to do much about it either way.

“Are you alright?” asked Regulus gently.

“Not really,” he admitted. “I feel like I’ve let everyone down.”

Regulus frowned, “How have you let everyone down?”

“By getting myself killed,” he explained. “I’ve broken my promise to Remus and Harry, that I wouldn’t leave them. Dumbledore told me to stay behind and I didn’t listen. I should have listened…”

“You didn’t abandon them Sirius, you were killed trying to save them. Tell me, why did you go to the Ministry in the first place?” asked Regulus.

“Because my godson was in danger,” he said.

“So if you were given a second chance, knowing what you know now, would you choose to stay behind like Dumbledore asked you to?” Regulus continued.

Sirius thought for a moment. Would he save his own skin at the risk of Harry losing his?

“No,” he realised quietly. “I’d have gone anyway.”

Regulus smiled, “Bloody Gryffindor to the very end, weren’t you?”

Sirius rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

“So what now?” he asked, sighing in resignation.

“That’s entirely up to you,” Regulus shrugged. “Either you move onto the next leg of your journey, or you go back. But you know what that would entail, wouldn’t you?”

“Becoming a ghost?” asked Sirius. He crossed his arms and grumbled, “It’s not ideal, but under the circumstances I might not have a choice.”

“You always have a choice. Are you afraid to move on?” asked Regulus curiously. Sirius looked up at met his brother’s eyes, smoky-grey and intent, identical to his own.

“No,” he muttered. “I’m afraid to leave everyone else behind. Harry needs me; I can’t leave him all alone again. And Remus...we’ve only really just found each other again. I need more time…”

“Unfortunately, we’re seldom given the time that we need,” said Regulus. “But do you really think that’s what Harry or Remus would want you to do? To be trapped between two worlds forever just for their sakes?”

Sirius lowered his gaze. He knew fine well that neither of them would want that.

“It’s not fair,” he muttered.

“I know,” said Regulus sympathetically. "It's time to decide Sirius; are you going back, or are you going forward?"

Sirius mulled over his choices - all the bad ones he'd made in his life that inevitably led him here. He'd made so many mistakes in his life, had so many regrets, too many missed opportunities. Not that any of that mattered now. Now he was faced with one more choice, the biggest choice of them all - one that would determine the fate of his soul; to go back in spirit only, or go forward into the unknown...

He looked up at his brother, resolute in his choice.

"Forward," he said. 

Regulus nodded and slowly got to his feet, holding out his hand in invitation. 

“It’s time to go, Sirius,” he said gently. Sirius looked from his brother’s hand to his face.

“You’re coming with me?” he asked hopefully. Regulus smiled contentedly.

“Of course. We always promised each other that we would go on that grand adventure together. Now we finally can.”

Sirius’ heart lifted a little knowing that he wouldn’t be alone for this next part of the journey. He took Regulus’ hand and rose to his feet, the chairs vanishing in the blink of an eye.

“So where are we going? Atlantis? El Dorado?” he joked. His smile faded and there was a note of hesitation when he asked, “Where is it that we’re going, Reg?”

“I can’t say,” said Regulus. “You’ll just need to see it for yourself. But I promise, it’s the grandest adventure of them all. Come on,” he beckoned, turning towards a bright light. “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“Everyone…” Sirius’ eyes lit up. “James?”

Regulus nodded. Sirius thought about James, excited at the prospect of seeing his old friend again. He thought about Regulus, by his side once more and it made him feel at peace. He thought of Harry and somehow knew in his heart that despite the trials ahead of him, he would be alright in the end. He thought of Remus...

_ Remus _ .

Sirius hesitated. Every fibre of his being was telling him it was time to move on, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to move on without Remus. He looked pleadingly at Regulus, “Will Remus be okay?”

Regulus rested a hand on his shoulder, “He’ll grieve for you. He’ll find solace in others who share the pain of your loss. He’ll struggle like we all do; to live is to suffer, something you know better than most, Sirius. But the ones that love us never really leave us. You’ll always be with him; he feels your love with him, even now.”

Sirius bowed his head and nodded, “I’ll see him again some day?”

Regulus squeezed Sirius’ shoulder reassuringly, “You’ll be here to greet him when he comes home.”

That thought eased the aching in his heart a little. He glanced back at the vinyl player one last time.

_ “Why should I be frightened of dying? _

_ There’s no reason for it, you’ve gotta go sometime…” _

Sirius turned back to his brother and gave him a sad smile. It was time. 

“I’m ready,” he said. Regulus returned the smile and nodded.

“This way,” he said, turning and walking towards a bright light in the distance. Sirius strode alongside his brother into the unknown, but he wasn’t afraid - he didn’t need to be if Reg was there by his side. Despite all the fighting and disagreements and even through their estrangement, Sirius was always sure that they would find each other in the end. And they had. They may not have walked through life together, but they would do so in death.

The music began to echo and fade as the light enveloped them entirely. Sirius felt like he was being wrapped in a warm blanket of light and love; it was peaceful and welcoming and he gladly submitted himself to it...

There would be no hero’s end to this tale.

For Sirius, this was just the beginning.


End file.
